Child Prey
by J. G. Smithe
Summary: The story of the first Canadian Battle Royale. The children are prey to one another in this twisted game of survival. Please review if you read, much appreciated!
1. Antebellum

Note: Rated M because of Swearing, Violence, and general theme. This is my first work of writing ever, that is not related to school. Please review with constructive criticism. Legal Things: I don't own Battle Royale. The details of the story are my individual ideas, as are the characters, which are fictional as well. The title Battle Royale and concept of the program are not my ideas, don't sue me. Enjoy.

Class List

Boys-

1.Michael Anderson

2. Steve Baker

3. Nick Barkland

4. Aaron Berton

5. Allen Conors

6. Dylan McDonald

7. Christopher Duncan

8. Jordan Finnerty

9. Dan Forbes

10. Scott Helman

11. Sean Jacobs

12. Tim Kinsmen

13. Albert Leibowitz

14. Justin Lores

15. Patrick Macleod

16. Zack Mannis

17. Richard Malikov

18. Blair Norton

19. Blake Orden

20. Stuart Raffer

21. Craig Raimond

22. Matthew Richards

23. Dennis Sanders

24. Steve Tremblant

25. Jon Vance

26. Chris Wallace

Girls-

1. Julia Alston

2. Amanda Balton

3. Kathryn Balm

4. Katy Berton

5. Lindsay Dole

6. Natasha Gale

7. Shana Halden

8. Devon Jetter

9. Megan Norris

10. Larua Owen

11. Janet Pell

12. Mary Pentikov

13. Erin Ping

14. Tori Rawlings

15. Susan Shiel

16. Sam Stokes

17. Caitlin Stryker

18. Bethan Telford

19. Allison Tolman

20. Miranda York

Antebellum- Chapter I

The plane was now approaching the islands, from further back in the plane he could hear some of his classmates talking excitedly about the spectacular view. The flight to Hawaii was coming in just as the sun was setting, when he looked out the window he saw something of real beauty, the sun was setting gently on the pacific ocean, golden-red rays of light reflecting off the waves. If he had been on the other side of the plane, he would have seen the Islands bathed in the rich light, looking like the paradise that it was, but the waves were just fine for Scott Helman (Boy #10,) who had never been outside of Ontario back home in Canada.

_And this is the last time I get to leave home for a while. _He thought sadly. Scott was eager to land, he wanted to get off the plane and enjoy the trip his class had won. "Hey Tim," Scott said as he tugged on the classmate's sleeve (which belonged to Boy # 12) who was sitting next to him, "Tim!"

"What," Tim replied tensely, "can't it wait?"

"Uh, not really," His excited classmate explained, "take a look out the window, the water looks so amazing out here."

"I'll look at the stupid water when we land. Please, just...stop talking for now."

"Oh yeah," Scott remembered, "sorry man, I'll shut up." Scott had no intention of making his best friend angry at him. Scott had forgotten that Tim had a fear of heights, and the flights accompanying the trip were something Tim was dreading. Although it seemed cruel, Scott was slightly glad for Tim's fear, it allowed him to have the window seat, which he wanted so he could get a good view as the plane approached. It was a smaller plane, with a passenger capacity of only 50 the plane was almost full, with the 46 students and their teacher.

Now, Scott was an average guy. Standing at 5' 8", and only weighing 120, he wasn't much of a physical threat to anyone. No fat, but truly not made of muscle. He had short hair which was dyed fire truck red and spiked up all over his head, giving his head a look somewhat of a spiked ball of fire. Although he wasn't strong be any means, he made up for it in cunning, wit and a mouth that could argue it's way out an electric-chair. In History or English he almost had the highest grades without trying. Subjects with out numbers and formulas, ones where he could imagine things or something with events came naturally to him. They clicked. On the other hand, subjects like math he would have failed every grade if it wasn't for Tim.

Tim was a math guy, he had no problem helping Scott with math, but only helping, never cheating. It came as a tradeoff though. Where Tim could crunch numbers like almost no one else in their class could, he was less than excellent in english. English was were Scott got to pay Tim back for the math help. But their balance didn't end there. While Scott could form an eloquent speech in a matter of minutes, Tim would have a hard time writing a speech if he was given three months. He was quieter than Scott, and words just weren't what he cared about. By all means he wasn't an idiot, he could strategize in the board games he and Scott played wonderfully. But his intelligence was more a book smart, while Scott had the street smarts. The classic combo of the two was only complemented further by the fact that while Scott had almost no muscle to speak of, Tim was what many of his classmates called, a "tank". Stronger than anyone else in their class, though he was never someone to intimidate, he just lifted weights when he got bored, and he got bored a lot. But for all his strength, Tim was hating these damn airplane rides. After arriving in California on a full sized passenger plane, the class got a transfer to the smaller plane for the short ride to the Hawaiian Islands. For most students it wasn't a big deal to transfer, but for Tim and a few other students were not as comfortable flying, it seemed like going through a second hell. Scott tried to comfort his friend.

"Don't worry Tim, we've almost landed," then imitating a voice distorted through an announcement "We're beginning our final approach to the lovely island of Hawaii, we hope you've enjoyed your plane ride with us. Have a lovely vacation."

"Ya, to bad the peanuts were crap." Tim cracked a bad joke.

"Sometimes Tim...sometimes..." Scott said jokingly with a small shake of his head.

"All the time Scott. All the time." Both Tim and Scott laughed, the joke helped put Tim at ease, it was a typical exchange of their's, as serious as Tim was most of the time, he enjoyed getting a being weird sometimes. Unlike Scott, who seemed weird most of the time, except for when he acted even more different, worse than normal according to Tim. When Scott got like that he got anti-social, quiet, and he got a look in his eyes like something was going on in that brain that was making eyes gleam, like his imagination was going wild, seeing what ever his mind wanted to see. That look, more than anything else worried Tim. Scott was a normal kid according to Tim, but his imagination was as active of that as a kindergarten kid. He never brought up the fact that the look was a little off-setting, what was the point? Was there really anything wrong with being imaginative, just breaking away from reality for a little while? Tim saw no harm in it, so he let Scott be himself, and Scott let Tim be himself, and that was something that made the friendship so strong.

* * *

Peering over the shoulder, while shoving that shoulder to get a better view, Blake Orden (Boy #19) was trying to catch a glimpse of the Island that they should be landing on, but Dennis Sanders (boy #23) was looking out the window blocking any chance for Blake to see anything but Dennis's golden-blonde hair. 

Blake Barked, "Get of the way jackass!"

"Screw off," Dennis shot back at him, turning around to push Blake back down into his seat. Blake gave him a swift punch the back, Dennis's position didn't change. Although Blake was one of the strongest boys in the class, Dennis was stronger, both of them being very muscular, and what a lot of girls would have called "Hot," but that was only girls who didn't know them. None of the girls would ever openly admit to liking one of them, though one or two did secretly, they were both to much of jerks to really want to date. But many guys in their school saw them as a "man's man," strong, athletic, good looking, confident. The only two guys who really stood a chance against either of them in a fight was Steve Baker, (boy #2) who was interested in weight training and wrestling, and Tim Kinsmen, who was all muscle. The difference between these four boys though was that while Dennis and Blake would fight without a second thought, Tim and Steve both had their heads on straight and were much more calm and intelligent, to be blunt, they were a lot more mature than the two who were fighting to get a good look out the window.

Blake had finally given up trying to use their window and had gotten out of his seat and went to the row behind him to use that window. Both of the passengers directly behind them were sleeping, as he slid in between his seat and the sleeping classmates legs he didn't even attempt not to bang their knees. Although the person in the aisle seat stayed fast asleep, after all, Jon Vance (boy #25) was quite the deep sleeper, the girl sleeping quietly in the window seat was awoken by the harsh hit on her knees. Mary Pentikov (girl #12) was never shy to express her feelings, and now was no exception.

"Hey! You jerk!" she said with a forceful edge in her calm voice, "Get out of our seats!"

"Jesus, calm down," Blake spat back, " Just getting a better look, not like you were even using your window."

"You're right, I wasn't using it. But now that I've been oh-so rudely woken, I think I'll make use of that window now." She replied smugly.

Holy crap, fine, I'll leave." He said with an acid tone. Just under his breath he mumbled, "ugly bitch."

"What did you just say?"

It was Jon, it seemed he was woken, but hadn't said anything until he caught what was said about his girlfriend.

"Nothing you wimp, go back to sleep." Blake hissed. He continued back to his own seat and sat down without ever actually getting a good view outside. Just to ease his frustration he kicked the seat in front of him.

"HEY! Cut it out Blake!" It was Julia Alston (Girl #1), a smaller girl who was friends with almost everyone, and who was trying to read her book in peace. She was a type of person that had a personality that really made it hard for everyone not to like her. Well, almost everyone.

"Shut the fuck up," Blake snapped back at her.

_Someone's in a bad mood. _Julia thought to herself as she tried to find her place in the book that she was interrupted from reading.

"Thanks," Mary smiled, slipping her hand into Jon's.

Jon smiled as he rested he head down onto the uncomfortable seat. Mary closed her eyes and rested her head on Jon's shoulder, thinking of all the fun things they could do, all the fun places they could visit on the trip. She sat there, falling back asleep, smiling at the thoughts of the time ahead of them, still clutching his hand.

* * *

A sharp ping was heard to all students who were awake. 

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience everyone, but the plane's air conditioning has stopped working," it was one of the two flight attendants, speaking in a very matter of fact manner and as if she really couldn't care less about the inconvenience, "The flight as about fifteen to twenty minutes left. To remain as comfortable as possible we suggest opening the air nozzle to keep the plane a comfortable temperature. Outside the temperature is 57 degrees Fahrenheit, which is 14 degrees Celsius. Once again, please open the air nozzles to circulate cooler air throughout the plane. Thank you."

All except a few students who weren't awake opened the air nozzles if they weren't open already. Some students opened those their seat partner's nozzles if they were too short, asleep, or in one case, too focused on staying calm and keeping his nerves under control. The two flight attendants walked up and down the aisle, opening any of the sleeping students nozzles.

* * *

She opened the door of the airplane washroom to an eerie sight, or more so sound. It was odd because the usually noisy class was, to her complete shock and amazement, silent. Devon Jetter (girl #8) looked around as she cautiously made her way to her seat near the front of the plane. She felt odd. Her feet, they were heavy, hard to move. She tried to ask the stewardess who was walking towards her what was happening and why the flight attendant was wearing a funny looking mask, but all she could manege was to mumble something incoherently. Was the plane going down? Is that an oxygen mask? Has everyone fainted? The flight attendant took her by the arm and half led, half dragged Devon back to her seat. Once seated, her head was too heavy to even lift off her chest. She closed her eyes and slept. 


	2. Chapter 2 The Rules

Chapter II- The Rules

_What the hell?...Where, where am I? I don't remember going to the hotel. This sure as hell better not be our hotel..._

Zack Mannis sat up slowly, he felt like someone had just taken an axe to his head. Questions were racing through his head, questions that he wanted answered. He looked around, everyone was there, all 45 of his classmates, 46 if he counted himself. All of them were laying on the ground, a few more people were starting to wake up. Zack found his neck to have a certain chill to it, and when he brought his hands up to feel his nick for the source of the chill his eyes widened when his fingers hit what felt like a tight-fitting necklace made of metal. His hands wandered around his neck, and he failed to find a clip to remove the collar. With his head spinning Zack tried to take in what he could about where he was. It seemed to be a plain enough room, almost square, illuminated harshly by overhead fluorescent lights, concrete floor, and seemingly out of place with the dull room was a wallpaper that looked like it stole the design from a cheap Aloha shirt. Tacky would be an understatement. At the front of the room there was something even more odd than that wallpaper Zack had instantly hated, a whiteboard and a desk, one that looked too large for a students desk, so it had be one for a teacher.

"Ms. Cooper?" Zack called out.

Getting no response, and with no sign of the person who used the desk Zack fell silent. He waited for a while, but it didn't take long before more and more of the students woke up, and more and more conversations were starting to take place in tight groups of friends. As people formed groups friends would see each others collars and some other students started to panic, feeling suddenly quite claustrophobic with such a tightfitting piece of metal stuck onto their neck.

Conversations were getting louder, more questions were being asked, all of which remained unanswered. Some of the more creative students were making up theories about what had happened, some of which were believable, while other such as Allen Conor's (Boy #5's) ideas were ridiculous,

"Guys, what if the plane crashed, and we were found by some crazy rich guy who has his own private island out here, and he's gonna force us into slave labour!"

Though some people told him to shut up, and he even got a few laughs out of some of the kids, everyone was still very curious about how the ended up in this room ,with metal collars, and how not one of them seemed to remember any of it. But overall a definite mood of confusion set itself over the class to take part in the first ever Canadian Battle Royale.

A door from behind where the whiteboard was setup swung open with a slight creak, everyone in the room went silent, the only sound in the room being a sharp Click-Click of high-heels on the cement floor. As the stranger came around the whiteboard all of the students got a look at the newcomer. Blake let out a low whistle as he looked over the tall, vibrantly red-headed woman in high-heels, a black skirt, a very business looking blouse and blazer, glasses and her hair done up into a tight bun and the back of her head. Completely unfazed by the whistling, she strode forwards with her a briefcase, she set it down on the desk and then walked over to the whiteboard. The mystery woman picked up a red marker that almost matched her hair and wrote out in large writing on the board "Miss V." She turned slowly and faced the class of students who wore their expressions of confusion openly.

"Good morning class, My name is Miss V, I will be you teacher for the next few days while your teacher Ms. Cooper will enjoy her vacation." Her voice had a certain tone of longing, almost as if she herself wished to be enjoying a vacation rather than being stuck in this dreary room with a bunch of confused kids.

"What the fuck do we have these things strapped to our necks for?" Zack asked, fully intending to get the facts straight and get out of here as fast a possible.

"Your all wearing those things," Miss V said with a smile, "because they let me keep you in line. So if you decide to cuss in the presence of a lady again...I press a button and the class gets a quick biology lesson to learn what a severed spine would look like."

"What the fuck," Zack stammered, "you mean...you mean that these things explode?"

"Yes, and I believe 'fuck' is a word I just told you not to use." Miss V said, her smile growing wider as she pulled out a device that looked like a remote. She started to press a few buttons on the surface of the remote.

Zack's eyes widened, he stood up, looking around the room for something, anything, to do what with, Zack wasn't sure, but he needed something to do anything with. Something to fix this. _Shit! She's gonna do it, she's gonna fucking blow my god damn neck off! What the hell is __this, oh hell...I'm dead, I'm fucking dead. No more video games, no more jokes, no more late nights on the phone with Susan, all that stuff is gonna end because some bitch doesn't like what I said?_

"Now, you'll find I'm quite a reasonable person Zack." She said, putting the remote back into her pocket, "Last warning. Do not use language like that in front of me again, or I will detonate that collar. Now, Sit down and be quite." Miss V stressed all the right words to make her threat seem quite frightening to Zack, and the rest of the class for that matter. Zack sat back down, breathing heavily and keeping his eyes on the ground, Erin Ping (Girl #13) put her hand on Zack's shoulder, not that they were great friends, but Erin was a person who would help anyone in need, and although she thought Zack needed the most help right now, if she knew the reason why they were there, she would have wanted help first and foremost for herself.

Amanda Baton, class representative, A+ student, volunteer at multiple charity's and fund-raisers, was the next to speak up,

"Miss, what are we doing here with explosives strapped to our necks?"

"I'm glad you asked Amanda."

"And how do you know our names?" Amanda cut in.

"If I didn't know everything about you, let alone your names, I wouldn't have done my job. As I was saying, your all here because after great success with the program in Japan, France and just recently The United States, our government has decided to bring the Battle Royale Program to Canada. Congratulations, you're the first Canadians to ever take part in a Battle Royale, you should be honored." Although though nothing Miss V told the class was in any language other than English, not one student fully understood what they had just heard. Realizing that her new class was still in the dark, Miss V explained further,

"The BR program started in Japan, and seeing it's success, France then later started their own Battle Royale. In the last few years America also started, and now Canada decided this program is what we need." Miss V continued to explain to the students intent on catching every word, "the game is simple, more simplistic than any game you've learned in your life. We're on one of the small islands west of the main Hawaiian Islands, graciously lent to us by the U.S., on this island you shall spend the next few days. Or maybe even less than a few days, depending on how well you do." Chuckling at her comment that no one else understood, she proceeded to tell the students of the rules of their new game.

"You will leave this building one at a time, the building is almost dead center of the island, you will each be given a backpack. Inside your backpack there will be a map, a compass, a watch for those of you who don't have one, food, water, and most importantly," She let the dead air fill the class as she took a long pause, the students were just dying to hear what would be so important to them. "Most importantly a completely randomly-assigned weapon. Now, some of you will get lucky, get a gun, or a knife, or maybe something to help you survive. But some of the weapons will not be so helpful, for example, maybe your best friend gets a pistol, and you get a ping-pong paddle. Tough luck. That's life, or maybe in this case, death."

"Miss V?"

"What is it...Scott, right?"

"Yeah, um, you said help us survive...survive what? Are we hunting animals or something out here?"

Laughing at the question Miss V locked eyes with Scott Helman (Boy # 10), and replied, "You will be hunting animals, but there's a catch, two catches actually. First, the animals are also hunting you. Second, your one of the animals."

Looking around at the faces of the young students she saw on some of the faces a look of terror and shock. Those were the ones who realized what she meant, the kids who hadn't caught on needed to be told a bit more directly it seemed.

"We give you the weapons, you go out there on the island, and kill each other until one of you is left, not two or three. One. Got it?"

Now that it was put so bluntly, everyone understood. More than a few students felt physically sick. This wasn't a joke. This wasn't a trick. Something about the way she was saying this, it was real. They were going to take whatever they got in a backpack, and kill one another with it.

Scott had the frame of mind to speak up again, "Why...why us?"

"Simple," came the reply, "A completely random draw of every grade 10 class in the country. Remember that trip to Hawaii you celebrated over winning, a country-wide contest? Well you won, this is your trip. So you might as well enjoy it."

Slipping into his own thoughts, Scott faded out from reality, and into his own thoughts. Imagining what things may come. What would happen, who would win? How would he win? Can we team up? Who could I trust?

"Alright, now that you all understand what this is about. I'll explain the last few things. The maps you'll be receiving are divided into zones, every 6 hours there will be an announcement made across the island to inform you all which of these zones are will no longer be play zones. If you go into the zones after the time I announce they become danger zones, your collar will detonate. Oh, a word on the collars, if you try to pull yours off, it will detonate as well, same goes for the ocean. One hundred meters off the shoreline in every direction is a danger zone."

Stopping to let the information sink into the students, seeing as it would be directly connected to their survival.

"One last thing about danger zones, for the first 6 hours of the game there will only be one danger zone, the zone that this building is located in. We can't risk having you kids running around here too much. You understand. So, that sums up this game, simple huh? Well anyways, any last questions before we send you out?"

"U-um, M-miss?"

"What is it, Laura?"

"Can I c-call my p-parents? I-I w-want to say good-goodbye." She choked through tears.

"No, none of you will be able to make any contact with the outside world from now on. Don't worry though, everyone knows what's happened here, you wont be a missing person or anything." Miss V replied cooly.

Laura and a few other classmates, girls and boys, started to shed even more tears, the thought of never seeing their parents again, the rest of their friends, their brothers, sisters, pets, everyone, everything. Gone.

"Well, anymore questions?" Miss V asked.

Other than a bit of shuffling, and the constant sobbing, the room was silent.

"Alright, then lets get this show on the road." She said with a million-dollar smile.

_Students Remaining 46_


	3. Chapter 3 Start Game

Chapter III- Start Game

As if waiting for their cue, two men in military uniforms marched into the room, one pushing and one pulling a shelving unit on wheels. On the shelving unit there were big, hiking backpacks, 48 of them. As the soldiers wheeled the packs past the white board and next to the teacher's desk, not one of the student's eyes left the rows of backpacks. Some students saw the end, in that backpack lay a weapon to maim and kill their classmates, to commit murder, and that is what is expected. On the other end of the spectrum, a few students, ones like Chris Wallace (Boy #26,) were sizing up the shapes of the backpacks. Trying to recognize what might cause

some of the lumps and pokes in the sides of the material. What backpacks would carry the instruments of death that were needed to win this game?

"Alright! Listen up!" Miss V snapped, "You will leave this building the way I tell you to. Once I call your name, you will come up here, be given a backpack, and you will exit out of the door that these men just came through. You will see two hallways, you will turn onto the one on the right, not the left. If you go left, I will detonate your collar, so please go right and exit the building. From there, the game is on. Remember, only one of you will be able to win. Oh, I really did forget to mention, if no one is killed in a 24 hour time period all collars will be detonated, so refusing to kill will only get yourself killed."

Chris Wallace was starting to get psyched, he would get a gun, a big gun, and go out there and win He'd win, because he was a winner, he won the football games, he won the wrestling matches, and he sure as hell was gonna win this.

"So once were out there, it's game on?" Chris asked.

"Yup. Though once your out there, I don't suggest hanging around this building. We're watching your movement, the collars double as G.P.S. beacons for us to monitor your movement. Once you leave the building a personal timer is started, if you don't leave the zone this place is located in within 15 minutes, your collar will detonate."

Looking around at the faces of the first ever Canadian Battle Royale Contestants for the last time, Miss V couldn't help but widen her almost ever-present smile. These were her

students, her subjects, her _specimen._ She was almost shaking with excitement for the game to begin. Calming down, she started the game.

"Alright, I'll start at the beginning of the class list. Alternating from boys to girls, until there are only boys left, seeing as there are more boys than girls. That must be no fun. Oh well. Boy number one, Michael Anderson, come on down."

Visibly shaking Michael started to stand up. He closed his eyes, the skinny boy with short, sandy hair and black frame glasses wished he was at home sprawled on the couch, eating chips and scratching his dog behind the ears as he watched T.V. late at night. Yeah, Dexter, his most trusted fried Dexter, that's who he wanted to be with, his best friend. Right now Dexter was back home though, and Michael was still standing frozen after getting up.

"Michael. Get up here. Don't keep the class waiting."

Snapping out of his thoughts, Michael made his way past the few classmates who were seated in front of him. When he reached the front the soldier closest to Miss V tossed him a backpack from the shelves. Michael tried to catch it, but just like usual when trying to make the simplest of actions, he fumbled. The pack slid off his hands onto the ground, quickly grabbing it by the straps, it was lighter than he thought it would be, he pulled it up and swung it on to his back.

"Oops, I can't believe I forgot to tell you all this." Miss V said abruptly, "There will be two minute intervals between the release of classmates. And the time starts as soon as I call your name. Mike, you've wasted about a good 50 seconds. Get a move on."

Nodding quickly then bounding out the door, Michael hit his shoulder on the door frame. Wincing in pain he hurriedly made his way down the right corridor and opened the door to be the first student to step out into the hell the awaited them all.

Back in the class room the time seemed to fly between the calling of names to get their turn to head outside. One by one they left Julia, Steve, Kathryn, Nick... slowly the students in the class began to dwindle. Some students left sobbing, while others left with seemingly no emotion on their face, not that weren't feeling emotion, but tried their best not to show exactly what they were feeling.

"Boy number 10, Scott." Miss V announced.

Slightly shocked by how short of time it seemed for his name to be called, Scott scrambled to his feet in a hurry, still lost in his own imagination of what it would be like outside, who's going to be waiting outside? Who will be hiding? Who's out there playing the game already?

Once the soldier had tossed him his backpack, Scott flat out ran to the exit. He wanted to get outside, access the surrounding area and find a place to wait for Tim. Tim wouldn't be long, eight minutes. Eight minutes? Yeah, eight minutes isn't that long, just sit and wait for him. Then figure out what to do.

Out side it was dark, there were large lights surrounding the school, but once past the circle of light they provided, it was blackness. After making it to the undergrowth, Scott and gotten down on his stomach, facing the direction of the buildings entrance. Waiting was awful, in the waiting room time went by far too fast, out here Scott was going insane. The door swung open, Laura Owen (Girl #10,) came out jogging. Watching her every move to make sure she didn't approach him, Scott remained silent. Laura started to turn around the side of the building, apparently to head in the opposite direction of the exit. _Good, keep going, get far away for now._ Then something happened that made Scott jump.

"Laura!"

Laura stopped dead in her tracks, she recognized the voice, or was she frozen in fear, or just curious as to who would be calling out her name? Coming out of the tree line was none other than Girl #2 Amanda Balton, best friends with Laura Owen and Allison Tolman (Girl #19.) Seeing her friend, Laura ran out to her, they met in a hug. From his location, Scott could see Amanda then pull away, and show Laura something she had in her hand, whatever it was, it was most likely her supplied "weapon". After showing it to Laura, Amanda pointed off in a couple directions, and then directly at Scott. _What the hell? How does she know where I am, or is she just so happening to point near me? Yeah, near me, she's pointing near me._ Except there was almost no mistaking it, if her finger was a laser-pointer, then little red dot would have been straight between Scott's eyes. The two girls then suddenly hurried off back out of the clearing.

Whatever that was about, Scott intended to keep an eye out behind him. The door opened again, this time instead of an abrupt swing, the door slowly crept open. First his head popped out, the Sean Jacobs (Boy #11) pulled the rest of his body through the doorway. With shabby clothes, awful hygiene, short dark untidy hair, glasses that he needed to see anything farther away than his eyelashes, and a love for computers like no one else had, Sean was a nerd. Scott didn't like to catagorize people, simply because he didn't feel that he, himself fit into any particular category. But when it came down to it, Sean was a nerd, but Sean had no problem with that, except maybe it made it hard for him to, as he put it "score with the ladies." Sean ran into the trees off to his right, running in front of Scott's concealed position, but taking no notice. Scott wondered why Amanda hadn't come out to tell Sean to join her, or Scott for that matter. Scott guessed she was only getting the people she really trusted.

* * *

Next out was Janet Pell (Girl #11.) Seeing her made Scott frown, girls like here weren't girls that he wanted anything to do with. She was good looking by all standards, in fact some would call her quite beautiful, but she was one of those preppy bitches who thinks she's all that. Got some good money in her family and she thinks she runs the school, her and her friends, the girls like Kathryn Balm, Katy Berton, Megan Norris, and Susan Shiel (Girls #3, 4, 9 and 15 respectively.) 

Janet wasted no time in unzipping her backpack to see what she had be given. After rummaging through her pack she pulled out a pistol that looked like an old six-shooter from those cowboy movies Scott hated so much, boring, fake, and the acting was crap if you asked him. She slung the backpack onto her back and made off in the same distance that Sean had gone a few minutes earlier. Now just two more minutes and Tim would be out, then they could figure out how they could get out of this mess.

Janet stopped running, she found a large rock to sit down on. Before sitting down she pulled out the flashlight that they had been provided and shined it down on the rock to make sure it wasn't to dirty, that just simply wouldn't do for her. Once seated she went back to looking through the supplied backpack, ugly thing that it was. Finding a box that read ammunition, with a folded piece of paper attached, she grinned. At least they were giving her more than six-shots. Eyes growing wider, she realized that she had forgotten to load the gun. What if she had run into someone? She'd point this gun at them and nothing would happen. Bam. She'd be dead. Hastily loading in the first six bullets as the instructions indicated, she snapped the loading chambers closed. Quickly reading the instruction she found out how to turn the safety on and off. That was all she figured she'd need to know, so with out further adieu, she packed up the instructions, and the bullets, except another six, which she stuffed into her jean pockets. As she put the remaining bullets into the backpack she came across the water. Ugh! Not Evian? What a bunch of cheap bastards, giving her sub-standard water. Ass-holes.

Moving further into the forest, she was getting sort of bored. She started thinking, _Kathryn, Katy and Megan all got let out before me, and none of them were waiting for me? What the hell is wrong with them. _With a twisted smile she realized that meant the three of them are out here somewhere, all three of them with out her or Susan. They were doomed. Susan and Janet were the two of the group that had some smarts. The other three were just pretty faces with nothing going on in their heads.

"ARGH!"

Screaming at the top of their lungs a figure jumped off of one of the tree branches not to far from Janet. As he jumped Janet saw something in the attackers hand glint in the faint moonlight. Side stepping to avoid the brash move, the figure landed hard and although they tried to maintain their balance they stumbled forward a few steps before landing on their face. Shining her flashlight on the attacker, she aimed the gun right at their back. Rolling sideways and squinting in the light, Allen Conors (Boy #5) lay on the ground breathing hard, a dagger in his right hand.

"You just tried to kill me!" Janet yelled, not thinking of silence.

"N-n-no! I was kidding! You know me, funny guy, Allen Conors, I yelled 'cause I was just trying to get a good scare out of you. You know, just joking." He said with fear practically pouring from his body.

"Liar." Janet sneered.

Seeing the faint outline of the gun in the darkness, he realized what would happen if he just sat there pleading, Allen leapt up, slashing with his dagger. Letting out a scream, Janet pulled the trigger. Bang.

Shaking as she watched his body fall, a gaping hole in his chest. Allen tried to speak, but the bullet had passed through his lungs and he could only get out a staggered few breaths. Janet just stood there, watching, shaking. There was a look in his eyes, a look of longing. He reached out to Janet, looking for help, he got none as he stopped breathing, his arm falling limply by his side.

There was blood all around were he stood and fell, Janet had never seen anyone even hurt badly in her life. This was- real. This wasn't getting drunk off coolers an going to lazer tag with her best friends, Allen wasn't getting up in five seconds and getting a chance to shoot her back. Coming to her sense she realized how much noise she had just made, pulling the knife from his hands, she ran off in the darkness, switching off her flashlight to avoid detection.

* * *

Tim had come out of the building, and after looking around he saw in the distance a blinking light. There was most likely only one person in his class trying to signal him, so he head off in that direction. As he approached the undergrowth he couldn't see anyone. 

"It's Scott."

Wheeling around he saw his best friend getting up from the cover. Bang. There was a gunshot, both Tim and Scott snapped their head's to the direction of the shot.

"Lets get going," Scott said.

"Yeah, hanging around the start point probably isn't the safest place on the island." Tim said as he started to head away from the school.

Following Tim, Scott mumbled to himself,

"There is no safe place on this island."

* * *

One by one the students took their turns leaving the building. Inside it was getting quite empty. As the numbers dwindled there was only one girl left, Miranda York (Girl #20.) There being quite a larger male population in the class, once the last girl was released, it would just be the guys. Two minutes had passed since Stuart Raffer (Boy #20) had left the class, and Miss V called out the last girl. 

"Miranda York."

You're cool. The rest of the kids don't know it, they think you're a loser, an ugly loser, but you'll show them just how cool you can be. They're all so obedient, following instructions when they act so tough. Liars, liars and hypocrites. I never claimed to be so bad ass like them. They'll all think I'm cool now. They'll all realize that I belong in their group.

"Miranda, hurry up." Miss V said impatiently.

"I'll take as long as I like." Miranda said, getting a confused look from guys still sitting, waiting for their release. Miranda talking back to a teacher? Never. Miranda stepping out of line? Not a chance. What's going on here?

Smiling, Miss V snatched the backpack from the solider, and threw it at Miranda, who tired to catch it, but she slipped up and it fell to the ground. Brushing her tangled brown hair away from her eyes, she picked up the bag and walked up to the front of the class, standing a meter away from Miss V. Unzipping her backpack right then and there, looking inside Miranda frowned. A baseball bat, she was hoping for a gun. She doubted she had the physical strength to make a baseball bat count. But she had to try, she had to show them that she could be cool too. Dropping her pack, bat in hand, she charged forwards.

Swinging clumsily, she went for a downward sweep in an attempt to crack open Miss V's skull. Although in high-heels, Miss V managed with no problem to dive to the side, avoiding the blow. The two soldiers had their side arms drawn in a matter of seconds, and opened fire onto the small girl. With three bullet holes in her back and one taking out a good deal out of the back of her skull, Miranda hit the ground. Getting up from the ground in a furious state, Miss V tore out the remote, pressed a few buttons, and within seconds Miranda's neck was a bloody mess.

"Bitch!" Miss V practically shrieked.

All the remaining class members were staring at the fresh corpse. A few had started to shake, and a few started to tear up; but straying from any typical reaction, Matthew Richards (Boy #22) had to stifle the biggest urge to remind Miss V that ladies simply do not use words like "bitch".

"Alright, well now that she's out, lets continue right away." Miss V said while fixing her hair. "Craig Raimond, your up."

Craig got up from the ground, still shaking. He caught the backpack and hurried out of the room, which was now a horrific sight. Turning right he shoved open the door. He had taken no more than two steps out of the door when his body hit the ground hard. Like so many times before he tripped over his own feet, far too large he thought, size 15. Although he should be used to his own body by now, even when he just stood in one place he looked awkward, lanky, and out of place. Pushing his tall frame up, he started to run straight ahead, then thinking better of it, circled around the building and made his way to the forest, and what he was almost certain would be his death.

Finally, after four more boys made their way out of the building, backpack's in hands and thoughts of every type going through their minds, it was the final student's turn.

"Last and I hope not least," Miss V said, "Chris Wallace, go get um tiger." She finished with a wink, unsettling even Chris. Snatching the pack from one of the soldier's hands, Chris strolled out whistling his favorite song, stairway to heaven.

_Students Remaining 44_


	4. Chapter 4 What do we do now?

Chapter IV- What do we do now?

Finally getting their bearings, Patrick MacLeod (Boy #15,) and Richard Malikov (Boy #17,) came to the conclusion they were heading south. According to the supplied map, there would be a rocky shore not too far away. It seemed that the exit where the game started was facing west, and the building itself located more of the south east portion. This meant that there was the most space if people came running out of the building straight, turned right or somewhere in between that. Patrick hoped most of his classmates had run away into the vast sections to his north, he wanted to wait for at least daylight to figure out what he and Richard would do. They should be able to figure something out, they worked great together, always had. They had met at school back in grade 6 when Richard had moved into the school, he used to live in British Columbia. They shared the same enthusiasms, rock climbing, paint balling, and mountain biking.

The pair made their way south, flashlights illuminating the ground ahead. After finding a path, which was absent from the map, the continued down it, just trying to separate themselves from the rest of the class.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Richard asked hesitantly.

"You mean about the game? Patrick replied.

"Yeah, about this shit. How are we gonna get out of this?" Richard questioned.

"Do you suppose we can escape from the island?" Patrick asked, answering Richards question with a query of his own.

"I dunno, we could always try to..."

"Try to what"

"Heh," Richard gave a small laugh, "I was gonna suggest we just rip these collars off; you know, see if that crazy bitch back there was just bull shittin' us."

"Ya, 'cept this isn't something I'd be willing to test, what if isn't a bluff," Patrick said, wondering why Richard would even think about risking that, "Sorry, but I like my neck, and I don't really want to be stuck out here without a friend, so do me a favor; don't test it?"

"Sure thing man, sure thing." Richard said smiling.

The pair continued on their road, eventually the air had a smell of salt on it, and the wind had picked up; they were nearing the coast. Once they reached the craggy shoreline there was more light, the moon no longer shaded by the trees and now reflecting off the waves. Making their way into the rocks the had to keep focused, so they didn't slip on the rocks, some of which were sprayed with sea water, more and more were slick as they moved further down. Finally coming to a stop on a large boulder they sat down.

"Maybe we can swim outa' here." Richard said, looking out to the black ocean.

"Doubt it, can't see land from here, plus the locator things in these damn collars would show that we're far out into the water." Patrick pointed out.

"Hmm...There must be a way we can make it off this island though, don't ya' think Pat?" Richard said.

"Well," Pat took a long pause before continuing, "there is one other way."

"You mean, use these?" Richard said, lifting his own supplied weapon out of his pocket.

"Yeah." Patrick said, hold his own in his free hand.

"But that's, well it's, murder." Richard said, completely unsure he wanted to do

something like that, unless it was self-defense.

"I really can't see any other way off this shit-hole." Pat explained, "We got lucky, the both of us did. I know only one of us would get out of here, but..."

"It's the best chance we've got?" Richard filled in.

"Yeah, best chance man. I just don't see any other way, we got a good chance, a real good chance I bet if we work together." Pat explained

"Yeah, and if both of us make it to the final two?" Richard asked.

"I dunno, we'll figure that out when we get there, kay?"

"Alright," Richard agreed, "Well, I guess we could sleep 'till the morning?"

"Good idea. Lets find some dry place in a crevice some where here." Pat suggested.

"Right, then when we wake up, we get this over with." Richard sighed.

* * *

Cautiously moving onwards through the trees, Tori Rawlings (Girl #14) tried to navigate her way to what appeared on the map to be a small group of houses; _probably some rich peoples private houses out here, _she thought. She shouldn't be to far, the houses were just North-East of the starting building. Tori used her flashlight to check for the third time that the safety was off on her supplied weapon, what the instruction manual called a "Ingram MAC-10." Unsure of a gun, let alone a fully automatic in her hands, Tori could only hope she wouldn't have to use it. She wasn't someone who hated guns with a passion, but she'd never fired one in her life; never even a cap gun. She had already made up her mind, she wouldn't pull the trigger unless it was absolutely necessary, unless it was life or death, kill or be killed. 

As she continued, Tori noticed the foliage was growing sparse and she felt less claustrophobic. Swatting away some long hanging branches, she saw the houses; or more appropriate, what was left of them. There were 6 houses in total, and although they seemed destroyed mostly, one of them seemed fully intact other than scratches on the outer walls, though it was hard to get a total view in the moonlight and flashlight. Jogging over to the undamaged house, Tori stopped at the front door, which was faded to yellow, with a brown painted frame, and knocked. Suddenly she realized the pointless of her action and had to stifle a laugh, least she be heard in the night.

Pushing on the door, lightly at first, then with enough to force to make it swing inwards, Tori stepped inside. Scanning the room with the flashlight and the gun simultaneously, she was shaking. She loved going to horror movies back home with her friends, just to screech together at the slightest scare. But this wasn't a movie, and she doubted that this would play out as predictably as the slasher flicks ever did. This room was a kitchen, definitely, and judging by the size of the house from outside, there would only be another 2 or three rooms to the one-story bungalow. Pushing open the inside door, which led to a bedroom she wanted to do nothing more than flop down on the bed and sleep, she was tired, night was definitely not for her. But there arose a problem, she needed to sleep, but that could be a fatal mistake, all it would take is one person to stumble on her and that's it, game over, she'd be dead. Stepping around the inviting bed, she swung open the last door, this time she looked for a light switch, and found one on the wall to her left. It was a bathroom, with a small window to let light in near top of the back wall, and the whole place looking like it needed a scrubbing, but still a cleaner environment that the jungle outside. Looking at her watch, she had her own and didn't need a supplied piece of junk, she saw it was almost 2:00 AM now. _If the morning announcement will be at 6...Then I can just sleep for a few hours and those loudspeakers around the island should wake me._

Deciding that was a good plan of action, she flicked off the light, then turned them right back on and looked on the left wall of the bathroom to see herself in the dirty mirror. She was a mess, going through a god damn jungle hadn't really been fun, but it also made her look awful, her small, thin frame looking bent from fatigue. Brushing away her brown hair that had somehow made it's way out of the ponytail she had tied and was sitting in front of her face, she thought she could really use some foundation, and a mascara touch up. _Christ, are you turning into one of those dumb bitches who obsess over stupid things like that? Toughen up. After the announcement, look for Erin, or Julia. _

Tori wasn't the best of friends with Julia, but Julia Alston (Girl #1) was a good person and friendly to everyone, definitely not traits that would get her out of this game. Then there was Erin, Tori was good friends with Erin, her and their third, Christie were great friends for so long, except Christie was in a different class, which at first seemed like the end of the world, and now seemed like blessing. Tori didn't want to use this gun, but dammit, she wasn't some dumb blonde that would scream. Looking in the mirror she saw herself weakened. She knew she wasn't going to let herself die, but she wasn't about to go on a mad rampage killing everyone so she could walk away from this. _That would be fucked up, to just kill people so you could live...but, is there even another way out of this game? Oh hell, those ass holes. There is no right choice in this game. Shit._

Turning off the light and walking back to the bedroom, she stopped dead. The bedside lamp was on.

"Who's there?" Tori called out, her voice shaking, and her hand aiming the gun shaking worse.

"Don't shoot me ok?" Called out a male voice from the kitchen, who could it be, sounds like Blair, not a bad guy, but to trust him in life or death?

"Blair? Is that you?" Tori asked.

"Yeah, if I come out can you not shoot me please?" He asked, always a bit of a joker.

"Sure." Tori lowered the gun.

"Nice place you got here." Blair Norton (Boy #18) smiled in the dim light of the lamp.

Giving a small smile Tori sat down weary on the bed and asked Blair,

"So you're not playing?"

"Playing?" Blair asked, confused by the question.

"Yeah, you know, playing to win, bang, bang, shoot us all dead. Playing." Tori said, starting to think it not such a great idea to be around someone she didn't know all that well. She tightened her grip around the grip of the fully automatic in her hand, her index tensing on the trigger, expecting to see Blair be faking the nice guy routine and attack. Faking being a nice guy wasn't hard for many of the guys in Tori's class, she thought most of them were all just a bunch of horny assholes out to get laid.

"No," Blair sat down on the other side of the bed, cocking his head to still meet Tori's eyes. Blair had big, blue eyes, a few of the girls though he was really cute. Tori though he was a good looking guy, the eyes, not a weightlifter, but not a twig, short black hair, and a smile that could brighten anyone's day. She'd be looking directly into his eyes since he walked in, and it wasn't till she finally broke her gaze that she noticed what was resting in Blair's left had, an hand axe. Getting up quickly Tori made some distance from her and the bed.

"What? What's wrong?" Blair asked a little panicked.

"So, um, that's your, um, weapon?" Tori asked a little afraid.

"Yeah, not that great compared to what you have, but I don't want to use one really." Blair assured.

"Oh, ok." Tori said, lowering the gun a little, but still keeping her finer tight around the trigger.

"So...would you mind if I just stuck with you? I really don't know who to trust out here, but you could have shot me with eighteen bullets, ten different times, so I assume your not gonna shoot me now." Blair said, announcing his intention.

"Um," Tori paused, thinking, _what do I do? He could have attacked me in the bathroom, but didn't, snuck up on me and axed me. Taken my gun and moved on, but he didn't. I guess teaming up with him is better for protection too. _

"Ok," Tori said, "I was gonna try and get some sleep before the first announcement. So, what do we do? Take turns sleeping?"

"I like the night, you sleep, I'll find time to lie down later." Blair said.

"Alright." Tori said with a nod. _Oh god, he better not look at me while I'm sleeping. No, he won't, Blair's a nice guy._

"Get some shut eye, I'll keep watch, um, I know this sounds crazy, but if we're gonna work together we to trust each other, so could I use the gun to keep watch?" Blair asked, knowing full well Tori might prefer to sleep with it at her side.

"Uh," Tori tried to quickly think it through. "Sure, just don't run off in the middle of the night on me." Tori laughed, Blair smiled.

"Don't worry, I'll keep with you all night." Blair reassured, "Oh, and any idea what we're gonna do in the morning?"

"I was thinking maybe we could look for Erin, she's well, my bestfriend and I really want to be with her for this." Tori said.

"I get it, it's cool, first thing tomorrow morning we'll go look for her." Blair smiled that golden smile.

"Alright, g'night Blair."

"Night."

* * *

Sneaking through the bushes, he saw them, four girls, all following her, yes her. That know it all bitch Amanda Balton. He knew the girls following her, knew them alright, her little group of friends who acted all good and righteous. There was Allison Tolman (Girl #19) right behind Amanda, with what appeared to be a bow and arrow in hand, Allison was an alright looking girl, but he didn't care, she didn't have big enough tits for him, go big or go home. Then there was Natasha Gale (Girl #6) and Laura Owen (Girl #10) walking side by side, the two of them were good friends, but neither of them were hot at all, so he checked their hands to see what they had, _a switchblade and a...is that a sling shot?_ Laughing internally, the unseen observer made his way further forwards, not wanting to loose sight of his prey. He could see better than any of them, their flashlights showing such limited illumination in such a large jungle, but his night-vision goggles provided just what he needed to hunt.

* * *

"You will live, I will see to it as long as there remains a single breath in body." Jon Vance said lovingly to Mary, his girlfriend. 

"Have I ever told you that your really corny?" Mary Smiled.

"Yes, and it only makes me want to be a little cornier." Jon Said, bending his head down to kiss Mary as she lay with her head on his lap.

"I love you. This game doesn't change that." Mary said, staring into his eyes.

"I love you too Mary, I always will."

"I'm afraid though," Mary said, starting to cry.

"So am I Mary, but most likely everyone on this island is." Jon said, trying to provide calm for Mary.

"You know, only one person can leave the island, Miss V said so."

"Don't talk like that Mary, we'll find a way, we will..."

"No, no we won't, and that's something we're going to have to accept Jon" Mary started to cry harder.

"Mary, you'll go home, I promise, see your mom and dad, your sister and brother, even Sugar."

"It would be nice to see my cat again." Mary laughed through her tears. Jon started to wipe her tears away and prop her up against his chest.

"You just stay strong for the next little while and you'll be home soon, ok? Get some sleep Mary." Jon Said.

"Jon...there is one thing we could do."

"What?"

"Leave together."

"What do you mean?"

"We've got this great view of the ocean from here, what do say, we stay out here till sunrise, then end this fucked up game together."

"No, no Mary. I won't let you be lost in the game. You're going to go home. There's no way we can do that."

"Are you sure Jon?" Mary asked, "I don't think I want to live if it means killing our classmates to do it."

"You won't have to kill anyone Mary. Trust me on this, as long as you've got me near, I'll help you make it clear, ok?" Jon reassured her.

"Alright. But Jon?" Mary asked.

"Yeah?"

"Let's watch till the sun rises."

* * *

"So it's final?" 

"Yup. Kill um all, no mercy. 'Till we're the last two motherfucker's standing. Then, well...we'll figure that out then."

"One request."

"Sure thing man."

"When we're last two, let's not shove a knife through each other's backs. Let's do it with some courtesy and friendship?"

"Some times man, sometimes..."

"All the time, all the time."

The pair set out, one with grenades, and the other with talon-shaped blades held in place between the middle and ring fingers on both hands, and they set out to become one thing, the winner.

_Students Remaining 44_


	5. Chapter 5 Good Morning

Chapter V- Good Morning

"O-m-g!"

"What's wrong Katy?" Megan Norris (Girl #9) asked her friend.

"We are totally missing the O.C.!" Katy Berton (Girl #4) shrieked.

"Oh my god, we have to be quiet! If someone hears you we're fucked." Kathryn Balm warned.

The three of them had been walking through the maze of nature since they met up outside the building. They had planned on waiting for Susan and Janet but they got scared of not being far enough away from the start building, and decided it was better to leave them. The trio of blondes were armed with an icepick in Katy's hands, a crowbar for Kathryn and a Walther P99 that Megan received. None of them really capable of using the hefty crowbar, and any three of the them equally inadequate at using the small ice pick or aiming the small firearm, they decided to just stick with what weapons each found in their own pack instead of swapping.

The group of five girls that they were apart of were known throughout their school as some of the most bitchy, slutty, and hot girls in school. They gossiped all the time which added quite a bit to their reputation of being less caring than, quite different fromthe façade of nice girls concerned with school issues. The five made up the school committee for school spirt, which was a fancy term for, the girls who organize the school dance. The girlshad the separate duties for the dance, Susan would get a DJ that would play music that people wouldn't get sick off, Janet would organize ticket sales and the sound systems that the DJ didn't provide, then the other three got the easy jobs. They would walk around selling tickets, they typically did this while wearing high heels and short skirts. Occasionally they would even lend their "expertise" on decorating for the dances.

At the outset of their journey, they had decided to check the map to decided on a place they could sleep, but also stay away from all the "dirty" kids. In the north west part of the island there was a building labeled as a infirmary, which Megan had assured them would have beds. Thus began their long walk. As for a plan on what to do with their overall situation in the game, they hadn't spoken about it yet, unsure of any course of action.

* * *

Standing all alone on the eastern shore, Steve Tremblant (Boy #24) brushed his blue and orange hair out of his face as he smiled at the moon. There was only one thing he wished for at this moment, and it wasn't to be back home in his shit hole of an apartment, but rather just a better weapon. Brining his gaze back down he looked at the Swiss Army Knife with all the tools and gizmos extended. Pushing them all back into the little metal shell one by one, Steve ran his tongue over his favorite tooth,unlike most people, Steve did have a favorite. Before ever knowing his class had won this field trip of sorts, he had begun an attempt to sharpen his teeth. It took longer than he had thought it would, and it became quite painful for him, and had only the time to get one sharpened, the right "vampire tooth" as Steve liked to call it. Cutting his tongue slightly on the point, Steve shivered, as much pain as he was feeling in the small incision, he liked it, it provided a drive, a feeling of rage and he couldn't deny that he loved the taste of his blood. 

While gazing back at the moon he made the decision that hunting at night would be much more fun, much more fun. The rest of the class would be frightened, no light, unfamiliar land, a game of death, any normal person would have been scared. He extended the knife back out of the multi-tool and tested just how sharp it was. He took the small silver blade and ran it across his right palm, making sense as Steve was left-handed. The blade left quite the cut, short, andnot deep, but stinging like a thousand hornets had just made a co-ordinated attack on a line drawn out on Steve's hand, and he loved it.

Closing his hand, and turning it knuckles-side down, he watched the blood slowly seep out from between his fingers and land with light splatters on the sand below. He hoped to find prey tonight, these foolish children would be his prey to hunt. Turning from the Pacific, he headed inland, to death, destruction and the carnage this game promised.

* * *

Lying low in the grass, the unseen observer watched the four girls from the bushes. It seemed they decided to camp out in the wilderness, two sleeping, two keeping watch. Even though they were half strength at the moment, now was not the time to strike. Later, yes, when all four are tired and wounded or,maybewhen one or two of them were dead. He could be patient, oh yes, Dylan McDonald (Boy #6) could wait for as long as it took.

* * *

Keeping pace, that's what she had to do right now, just keep pace. Caitlin Stryker (Girl #17) was hot on his trail, mace in hand, the heavy beating device slowed her down but not by much. She was useto exercise, a tomboy since she was born and she loved every minute of it. She played sports all her life and they kept her in shape, now, hunting down Chris Wallace she got to use all that stamina. He was moving so fast, she doubted he could hear her coming through the bush behind him. He wasn't a very tall guy, and it made it easy for him to get through the undergrowth quicker, and in the dark it was hard to see much, but the blonde hair provided a dim beacon in the night. It didn't surprise Caitlin that he was alone, he didn't really have any friends it seemed, he claimed to go out partying on weekends, but clearly not with anyone from their school if was telling the truth. 

_Shit! Where'd he go?_

Chris and started going down what seemed to be a hill, no, a valley, there was a twin hill starting at the base of the one Caitlin was on. But once he had started downhill she lost sight of his blonde hair bobbing up and down. She didn't think that it was good to lose sight of him, considering just at the top of the valley, there was a tall poll, which seemed had speakers and a light on top. She assumed it doubled as not only a speaker system to make broadcasts over the island, but also a light in the dark, perhaps to draw in frighted students like moths to a flame?

Hearing and feeling the air being cut quickly, Caitlin ducked; just as a cleaver swiped across where her neck would have been. Turning to face her attacker she brought the mace up above her left shoulder to swing down upon Chris' wide set chest. Before she had the chance to complete her attack Chris let fly with his left hand, punching Caitlin hard in abdomen, winding her. Doubling over while catching her breath Chris brought his left hand to overlap his right on the handle of the butcher's tool and swung down. Rolling to the left, Caitlin caught the thick blade across her right bicep rather than straight onto her spinal cord.

Howling in pain, Caitlin rose back to her feet quickly, not ready to give up. Chris took a few steps backwards, moving across the hill rather than up or down. Knowing the advantage of momentum, Caitlin began circling so that she moved to the slightly higher ground. Charging at Chris and letting out an unholy war cry, she was ready to swing the blunt weapon into his ribs.

Seeing the danger of a mid-level attack, Chris took a small jump back wards, managing to keep his balance while striking the mace with his blade to knock the heavy weapon towards the ground. With fury, Caitlin brought the mace back up before Chris could strike and swung with home run power at Chris' skull.

Ducking quickly, Chris saw his opportunity as the mace smashed into a tree next to Chris and the bark shattered, a strike that would have pulverized Chris' skull. Quicklychopping the butchers knife at Caitlin's shin, lacerating the fibula with his massive strength. Succumbing to the pain, Caitlin dropped the mace and collapsed holding her knee and for the first time in a long while, she cried. She hated crying, it was for babies, wimps, and spoiled kids. But these tears were not solely caused by the physical pain caused by such a wound, but also the realization that she lost, and there would be no grudge match against the opponent, game over.

Walking over to his fallen classmate, Chris glared at her, disappointed in her short performance. He had hoped for a nice, long fight, one to cause destruction and mayhem. This is the end it seemed, for Caitlin. He brought his heavy blade up, in a last move of defiance Caitlin spat on Chris' shirt, just before the blade soared through her neck, almost severing her head from her body.

With the now mangled corpse at his feet, Chris loosened the straps of his backpack and slid it from his shoulders. Unzipping his own bag as well as Caitlin's he tossed the food and water from her bag into his own. Just before zipping his bag back up, he dug around for the classlist that was in the bag, finding it he pulled out the pen and crossed Caitlin Stryker- Girl 17 off his list. Stuffing the list and pen back into his bag, Chris zipped up his back and put it on his back. Not bothering with the cumbersome mace, he walked away, cleaver in hand, looking for another body in the night.

* * *

Some were alarmed, some were awoken, some were terrified of what was to come, but all of them, every last student on the island was listening intently after they were awoken by a blaring of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, the strong sounds of horns rolling in the hills and the cannon-shots used in the piece booming over the island. As the orchestra packed it's bags, a ping was heard over the loudspeakers, and Mrs. V's voice was pumpedout tothe island. 

"Good morning everyone, I hope you got some sleep in the last six hours, though it seems more than one person sure didn't. I want you all to know that I'm..." Her voice trailed off a little, "disappointed. You all had six hours out there and only three dead? And one of those students died right here in the starting building, c'mon everyone! Do your part! Don't hold back, kill, kill, kill!"

Some of the students were starting to really get frightened, although the dark was starting to lift as the sun was coming over the horizon. How the hell can anyone talk about three dead teenagers like they were nothing, just sacks of potatoes, or a box of tangerines with three eaten by some greedy child.

"Well here's the list of the dead, starting with the first to go to the most resent addition to the dead. Oh- and if I do say so myself, you might want to check these losers off on your class lists so you don't worry about the dead. The worst of the worst, bottom of the barrel, lowest of the low, Allen Conors, number 5 was the first to die. Who killed him you ask? Well, telling you would ruin the fun, so lets keep it a secret, me and the only other person out there who knows. Next to drop out was Miranda York, number 20, did it right here in the classroom, an idiot if there ever was one. For the grand finale, the first person on the island to put up a fight before hitting the ground, Caitlin Stryker, number 17. Well, I'll be off for now, so get right back to hacking, slashing, shooting and what ever else you clever little kids can come up with."

* * *

"Fucking Bitch," Blair Norton exclaimed, "how the hell can she be so, so- argh! So god damn calm about dead people? Human beings! Christ..." 

Still sitting in her new bed, Tori Rawlings finished crossing Caitlin off her class list, not something she really wanted to do, but still found it necessary.

"You knew it would happen sooner or later Blair-" Tori started, but Blair cut her off.

"I know! But how the hell can kids we know, have known and were friends with just go straight into killing each other?" Blair said, starting to pace back and forth and speak quite fast.

"Well, Miranda died in the class, so it was probably that bitch Miss V that killed her."

"And what about Allen? And Caitlin? I was friends with both of them, sure, not best friends lets share life stories, but friends none the less! How can they be dead... it, it just, doesn't make any fucking sense." Blair said, finally slumping down to the bed. He tried to stop them, he tried hard, but the tears just started to flow. _Great, I'm supposed to be the guy here, and I'm sitting on the bed crying? Idiot._

"It's ok to cry Blair," Tori said, pulling herself next to him on the edge of the bed and putting her arm around him, "it's not really the most normal thing in the world to just be told our classmates are dead."

"Sure, but your not crying." Blair pointed out, wiping away some tears.

"And you know what?_" _Tori asked, "That kills me, it really does. I should be crying, none of them were really my friends, but I've known them, talked to them, they were still people. And here I am, not shedding a tear over them; I feel...morbid? I don't know, but it's wrong. I usually cry at all those sappy, over-predictable movies. You're acting normal-er than me, Blair."

Smiling, and wiping the last few tears from his damp cheeks, Blair turn his head to the left and looked directly into Tori's eyes.

"Thanks." Blair said softly, "I know we're not the best friends, but you're doing one hell of a job acting like one."

Tori laughed and leaned her head onto Blair's shoulder. Shifting her eyes to look back into Blair's big blue eyes, she smiled a genuine smile. She knew they had just started the most horrific and deadly game in their world, but she still had something to smile about, a new friend named Blair.

* * *

Pushing the class list back into his assigned backpack, Michael Anderson (Boy #1) had his own little moment of silence for the three dead classmates that he thought he'dnever see again. Whether or not he had heard a list of the dead he would have been silent, he was alone, and yet strangely unafraid. He slung the pack over his shoulders and checked to make sure the pistol he'd been assigned was still in his pocket. He didn't feel like carrying it a around, even if it was a small pistol, the name of which he learned on the instructions next to the extra ammo, the Walther PPK. Michael was drained, it had only been one night, but that one night had been spent wandering around nervus and terrified of what might happen. Now, in the brand new morning, with the light starting to shine brighter by the minute, Michael was feeling the side affects of staying up all night. 

Michael was never able to stay up all night, when ever he'd try to watch a late night movie or stay the night at a friends house he always fell asleep around midnight. That became a great set up for some of his friends, most weren't in his class but Allen Conors was there, and so was Craig Raimond.

It was the last year, the 15th birthday of Michael's friend Tom. Tom had decided to have a bunch of guys over and stay up all night watching some zombie movies. Michael had come for his friend, even though he wasn't a big fan of zombie movies. Then, during Romero's Dawn of the Dead, Michael fell asleep. After one of the guys, Michael never found out who pointed it out, noticed him sleeping, they quickly decided to play a practical joke on him. They went up stairs and got some whipped cream from the fridge. Then while he was out, they put whipped cream in his palms, on his face and in his shoes. Once he woke up it was a good laugh from his friends and even a few laughs from Michael, who didn't really take it as offensive or cruel.

He missed his friends as he had his little nostalgic moment. He wished they were with him. No. That would be the worst thing he could wish for them, no, he wished he was back home with them. But that wasn't the case at all, he was in the middle of the jungle on a remote island and his school project was to kill his classmates.

Michael started to walk down into a valley, there wasn't nearly as many trees and bush in the valley, so he could see almost the whole thing from near the top. Scanning over the valley side below him, he checked for any sign of someone to join up with. Tree, bush, rock, tree, tree, backpack, rock, bush. Backpack?

Racing down the valley to where he had seen the backpack that was the same as the one as the one on his own back, Michael was getting excited. Someone must have slept through the morning announcement, Michael couldn't understand how anyone could stay asleep after that music, they must have stopped in the valley for the night...

Michael turned around the tree and froze. It wasn't a sleeping classmate at all, but rather the corpse of Caitlin Stryker. Michael stood frozen, taking in the disgusting and horrific sight before him. Her shin crushed inwards, her right arm torn and by far the worst, her head lying at almost a full 90 degree angle from her neck, still hanging on by a bit of flesh that somehow managed to stay connected. Feeling a surge in his stomach, Michael turned around, buckled over and puked. The pain of the vomit tearing his throat and the sight of Caitlin brought tears to his eyes. He vomited again. _Why? Why did I have to find this? Oh hell..._

Michael got back up, not turning around to face the mutilated body of a classmate, he swung the pack off one shoulder and unzipped the top. Pulling out one of the water bottles, he washed his mouth and chin of the puke. He'd never been so shocked in his life, even knowing that people would be savagely murdered out here, he never expected there to be something this horrific staring him in the face.

Setting off again, Michael started to jog against his sore stomach's will. He had to get somewhere else, anywhere else, just away from that poor girl.

_Students Remaining 43_


	6. Chapter 6 Carpe Diem

Chapter VI - Carpe Diem

Stopping to unscrew his water bottle, Stuart Raffer (Boy #20), drank greedily. He was thirsty, very thirsty. The morning had come and the heat was setting into the jungle and not being athletic or even in shape, Stuart was getting tired. But he couldn't stop, not until he found her, he needed to find Shana, Shana Halden (Girl #7). Stuart, a shy boy, never admitted to liking Shana, not to anyone. Not even to his best friends, it was his secret. He kept it quiet not because he was ashamed, but fear of rejection and humiliation from being turned down by one of the pretty girls was just too much to much embarrassment for him. Besides, why would a gorgeous girl like Shana want to go out with an average guy like Stuart, that's what he was, average height, average weight, average grades, average, average, average; and there was just no way that was good enough for her in his mind. But now was the time to take the chance, take that leap of faith.

Shana was his angel, her long blonde hair flowing down past her shoulders, her piercing green eyes, her tall figure, her kind face with high cheekbones. Stuart had fallen in love with her, if 16 year olds knew what love was, and was captivated by anything she did and everything she said. Shana had a beautiful voice, and never was never afraid of speaking her mind to defend not only herself, but anyone who needed defending from the harsh insults of the five girls who ran the school, Katy, Kathryn, Megan, Janet and Susan. She really was his angel. He needed her, he spent far too long just wishing for a kiss, his first kiss, and now it was his last chance. So much wasted time, so many wasted opportunities. How he loved and hated the memory of the time they ended up seeing a movie together. Stuart remembered it so well.

* * *

It was still light out, only 6:40, but the movie started at 6:45 and out of the 9 people that were supposed to have come, only two had. Stuart Raffer was sitting on the steps outside the theater next to Shana Halden. Checking her watch, she gave a half smile. 

"I guess we're the only ones showing up." She said.

"Hmm. I guess. We were all supposed to meet here at 6:30." Stuart replied.

"Yeah, so do you wanna go get tickets?" Shana asked.

"Might as well."

The tickets wouldn't be sold out, not even on the Saturday night. Most people went to the big theater on the other side of the town, but it was quite common for the students to go to the old, run down, dirty, but cheap theater. Walking up to the ticket booth, Stuart pulled out his wallet.

"Two for Saw, please." Stuart said, handing over ten dollars.

"Two?" Shana asked with a sly smile.

"Of course," Stuart said jokingly, "seeing as how this turned into a date of sorts, it's only customary that I buy for the lovely lady."

"That's gotta be the cheesiest line ever." Shana said, laughing out loud at him.

"What?" Stuart asked, _Oh my god, since when the hell did you get so bold?_. "Can't a guy try to be a little romantic? Even if it is a joke?" _What the hell! Where did that come from? This isn't you buddy, she's gonna laugh at you._

"Oh Stuart, I never thought you to be the hopeless romantic type." Shana said, raising an eyebrow and her smiling broadening.

"Meh, it's not like I planned this or anything. I still want someone to burst in through the doors to join us." Stuart said.

"What? I'm not good enough company?" Shana said, putting on a fake frown.

"What? No! Of course not, it's just, I mean, I didn't plan, or anything, it just happened that, well, this." Stuart stumbled all over his own tongue.

"Easy there. Lets go get some drinks and popcorn for the movie."

"Oh, uh, sure. Won't we miss the beginning of the movie though?" Stuart asked, not wanting to miss anything important.

"Naw, don't forget, there's like 15 minutes of commercials before then even show previews for 10 minutes,_ then_ they show the movie." Shana reminded Stuart.

"True. So what type of drink do you want?"

After they had gotten their drinks and popcorn, they found seats at the very back. Other than Stuart and Shana, there was only another 7 people in the theater. Near the front on the left was a group of three kids their age, but they didn't recognize them from their school. Sitting middle way down and middle of the row was two girls that looked about 19, and off to Shana and Stuart's left in the back row was a couple making out quite lustfully.

Together they watched the movie. Stuart kept himself from anymore bold statements and even kept himself from trying to old yawning trick. He was glad though that Shana got nervus in the tense parts of the movie and she would jump and cling to his arm, immediately after she would let go and blush unnoticed in the dark.

After the movie they gave a friendly hug goodbye, nothing special, it was the norm for their group of friends to hug, some people in school thought they were a bit wired, but they just saw nothing wrong with innocent hugs. They went home and complained to their friends about not showing up, all of them had their excuses and neither Stuart or Shana cared. The next time their friends did show up though, and they never went alone again. Nothing happened, and Stuart wished he had, wished he had just said it after the movie, told her how he felt and that he loved her; and he knew that was the best chance he got to do it.

* * *

Tossing the now empty water bottle into the bush beside him, Stuart sat down. He pulled the map out of his bag to examine where he was and where he should be looking. Looking at the map he sighed. It wasn't a huge island, but for one person to search the whole island for one person, next to impossible it seemed; but he couldn't give up, now he had a reason to tell her how he felt, there was no more promising himself to tell her later, it was now or never. Never sure as hell couldn't be his answer, not after so many years of playing the quiet boy who couldn't muster the courage to tell her, the time was now. 

"Carpe diem." Stuart said aloud to himself.

Getting up and brushing off his pants, Stuart put the map back into the bag. As he put the map back in, he saw again what he didn't want to even hold, his weapon. He knew it wouldn't be all that effective even if he tried to use it, but a blow gun with poison darts wouldn't help him find Shana.

Stuart's eyes instinctively opened at the sharp but short pain of a small blade piercing through his temple; Stuart fell to the ground. Removing the blade, Steve Tremblant eyed the blood on the blade with passion; he brought the knife blade of the Swiss army knife to his mouth and licked the blade. The taste fueling his desire for destruction and desecration of his classmates, dead or alive. He removed the corkscrew from the body of the tool and drove it straight down in Stuart's chest, continuing with the act of rage over and over until Stuart's chest was a bloody mess.

"Carpe diem Stuart." Steve said with laugh.

Checking in Stuart's bag he found his weapon._ Blow darts? Hmm, could be useful... _Stuffing the dart's into his own backpack, Steve took the blade of his knife and carved a notch into his arm. People at school always though he was a cutter, that crazy kid who has no friends. Must cut. Well now he would cut, a cut for a kill. Making his way into a direction which caught his fancy, seeing as how a calculated route at this point would be almost useless with how many walking corpses were still out there, Steve made out to quench his own type of thirst.

* * *

An Unlikely group? Definitely. The raver chick, the bodybuilder and the gangster wannabe. Lindsay Dole (Girl #5) was getting annoyed. Ever since the three had met by chance while walking aimlessly around the island, Steve Baker (Boy #2) hadn't stopped arguing with Aaron Berton (Boy #4). It would be about anything, if Aaron drank out of his water bottle, Steve would lecture him about saving for later. Aaron had a 'reputation' to keep up, so he got defensive instead of ignoring Steve and they would argue untilLindsay would finally tell them to shut up. At the moment they were arguing about who could beat who up; the argument had been going on for a while. 

"I could break you in fucking two." Aaron was saying.

"You're a twig Aaron, why don't you go listen to 'fiddy cent and stop trying to act tough." Steve retorted.

"Why don't you both grow a pair and shut the hell up!"Lindsay finally intervened.

Silencing both, they stared at her. Rolling her eyes that still had her neon orange contacts in, she pushed ahead to gain a bit of ground, not wanting to be around the two guys all that much.

Letting a few meters get between themselves and Lindsay, Steve turned to Aaron and asked,

"Would you?" cocking his head in Lindsay's direction.

"Would I what?" Aaron asked confused.

"You know," Steve said, not thinking he'd have to spell it out, "Would you chop her?"

"Chop her?" Aaron was still in the dark.

"Jesus Christ man! You don't know what I mean?"

"How the hell am I supposed to...It seems like your asking if we should kill her!" Aaron retorted.

"And here I was thinking you were a 'gangsta'." Steve laughed.

"Fuck you. Just fuck you." Aaron said, getting genuinely embarrassed at not understanding what Steve was talking about.

"Kay," Steve was going to have to just use words a two year-old would understand, "would you do her? Have _sex_."

"Oh, what the hell, why didn't you just ask that in the first place?" Aaron asked.

"Didn't think you were a fucking retard, that's why. So would you?" Steve said.

"Hmm," Aaron said, giving the question a lot of thought, "Definitely. How 'bout you?"

"Hells yes. She's freakin' hot. Who cares if she's a bit weird."

"Oh man, what if she's a dyke?" Aaron said with a laugh.

"All the better!" Steve joked.

Steve laughed and Aaron did too.Lindsay just kept walking, pretending not to hear their idiotic banter.

Lindsay moved on, knowing that they needed to find other people. The plan was to find other people and find a way to escape. Miss V made it out to be impossible to escape, butLindsay was sure one of the smarter kids would figure out a way. They had to. If they didn't, then no one would. But people like Amanda, Devon or Scott would figure something out, they were good at that sort of thing.

They just had to survive until they met up with those guys. It shouldn't be too hard though right?Lindsay felt comfortable defending herself with themachete and Steve's strength made his brass knuckles formidable in close combat, and just to seal the deal, Aaron had a big pistol, what he said was a Browning HP 9mm. He had tried to sound intelligent telling them about it, butLindsay saw him read it right off the gun manual beforehand.

Lindsay thought it was typical for guys to try to come off as smarter than they were, or stronger, or faster, or anything. But alas, that wasn't the type of guyLindsay wanted, not a guy with his head so far up his ass he never thought about anything of importance. She wanted someone with intelligence, with wit and charm. It was in the last few months she had realized that her prince charming had known her since grade 6 and his name was Scott Helman. She loved the way he didn't show off as soon as a girl showed up, he was funny, and polite and would hold open a door for her. He was a bit of a flirt with all the girls, butLindsay saw it for what it was, harmless. But whenever he was acting a little cheesy around her, she tried to forget that he was joking around, try to pretend he was interested. She wasn't desperate, not at all, she just thought that he was made for her and she was made for him.

Where was Scott now though? Was he already off the island with some great plan of beating the game? Had he been killed since the last announcement? Was he dying in some ditch and she would never get a chance to say good bye and that she loved him?Lindsay didn't want to know.

For an island that seemed fairly small,Lindsay found it quite odd that they hadn't found anyone since the three formed a group. It would only be natural and probable to run into someone in the seven and a half hours they'd been out of the starting building. Glancing over her shoulder,Lindsay saw that Steve and Aaron were now a fair distance back and the bright scenery impaired most of her view of them. Stopping to call out for them, Lindsay didn't want to get separated.

"C'mon you guys! Catch up, we can't get split up." She called back to them.

"Coming, Coming. Jesus, we weren't that far back." Steve said as he and Aaron doubled pace to catch up.

"I know, but it's not safe to just drift like that."

"Whatever." Aaron said, thinking Lindsay was being far to worried. Or was she? _There are other guys out here killing people - maybe we should be more careful._

"Well, lets look at the map and figure out a place where people would-"Lindsay stopped mid-sentence.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Shhhh!" Lindsay whispered, "Do you hear something?"

"No." Aaron said, not bothering to lower his voice.

"Shut up!"Lindsay said, trying to keep her voice down.

"Shut up!" Aaron said in a mocking tone.

"Kiss my ass."Lindsay whispered.

"Bend over." Aaron asked, getting a stifled laugh from Steve.

"Hello?" An unknown voice asked from the tree's further down the narrow path.

"Who is it?"Lindsay asked nervously, not able to recognize the voice.

"Blair, And Tori's with me." Blair announced.

"Oh, come on out then."Lindsay said, still nervous.

Coming out of the bushes, Blair and Tori moved towards the unlikely trio with lowered weapons.

"Shit son. Nice gun Tori." Aaron said, eyeing not only the fully automatic but also the short girl standing in front of him.

Shooting him a look of disapproval and disgust at admiring the gun, she brought her gaze back to Lindsay, who stood in front of the two boys.

"So what have you two been up to?"Lindsay asked.

"Hey!" Blair said, offended, "You see us together and immediately assume things?"

"Easy cowboy," Lindsay said, completely unamused, "I didn't mean it like that. Just what are you guys, you know, doing? As in, planning to do. About this. The game. Well, not so much a game but-"

"Yeah, we get it." Tori cut her off.Lindsay rambled, her mind half focused on her thoughts of how piggish Blair's comment had been, assuming she thought they were a couple. "We were just looking for Erin, have you seen her?"

"No, you guys are actually the first people we've seen since we met up."Lindsay explained.

"Oh..." Tori said, frowning at the not-so-good news.

"Where are you three headed?" Blair asked.

"We're looking for anyone who's trying to get off the island." Lindsay informed.

"Oh," Blair said, "Is it even - never mind."

"What? Impossible" Lindsay filled in, "I don't know, but someone will have a plan."

"I guess, but I just doubt it will work." Blair said.

"Well we do. We're not asking you to help us, so screw you."Lindsay said, getting angry at Blair's pessimism.

"I know, I know. Just saying."

"Well don't." Steve spoke up.

"We should be off, don't you think Blair?" Tori said, trying to get back on task and away from confrontation.

"Yeah, your right." Blair said, backing away a little from Lindsay.

"See you guys later, ok?" Tori said smiling.

"Right, later."Lindsay said. The rest of them shared good byes and the both continued on their separate paths. Just as the broke away, Tori turned and said,

"Good luck."

Nodding, Steve led the trio onwards. As they walked away Lindsay started to cry.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Nothing...well, just, what if Blair was right?"

"Right?" Aaron asked.

"About it being impossible." Natahsa said with tears now pouring down her cheeks.

"I thought we said we were gonna stick with this 'till the end. It's the only option. We'll give it our best." Aaron said.

"But-"

"No buts. You said you wanted to live, and you're not willing to kill for it. This is our option, the only one." Steve said.

"You're right." Lindsaysaid, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Blair doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Right, so lets keep going and find someone, and get the hell of this island."

_Students remaining 42_


	7. Chapter 7 The Unexpected Guest

Chapter VII- The Unexpected Guest 

Sitting on her couch with a crossword on her lap and a pencil tapping against the side of her head, Miss V just couldn't figure out 6 down.

"Anyone know what this would be," Miss V called out to the soldiers in the room, "Detective Briscoe's first name?"

"How many spaces?" asked Private Hack.

"Six." Miss V replied.

"Hmm," Private Hack thought, biting his lower lip as a thinking habit. "Shit, from Law & Order, it starts with L."

"Well the last two letters are I and E." Miss V said.

"Oh Lennie." Private Hack exclaimed.

"Shouldn't that end in Y?" Miss V questioned.

"Typically. But I remember his was an I-E ending." Hack informed.

"Alright, thanks." Miss V said, Filling in the last word of the puzzle. Getting up off the couch Miss V stretched. "So how's it looking?" She said through a yawn.

"Fairly dull," replied Hack, "No death's since "Boy # 20 went down."

"God damn these kids suck at this game." Miss V said with a laugh. "Hmm, do you think it was a bad idea to hold off till the second announcement for danger zones?"

"Probably." Hack said, biting his lip, "They really don't seem to be running into each other. Look." Pointing at the large electronic map in front of them, the Private showed how all the blips were scattered and how there was too little a chance of engagement. "If I may, why were there no danger zones announced? Aren't we supposed to randomly determine-"

"Because I wanted to, just did it on a whim." Miss V said, taking in the information on the screen.

"Oh, well do you think maybe we should make an announcement and give them some now?" Hack suggested.

"I really didn't want to, but with only four dead in what has it been? Almost eight hours?"

"20 more minutes till eight hours." Private Hack said.

"In that case, at the eight hour mark I'll make the announcement." Miss V said.

"Right then." Hack said, "I'll use the random generator to determine which zones we'll activate."

"Ok, just don't activate them till after the announcement."

"Of course." Giving a quick nod, then turning away Miss V went down the row of control panels to check up on the audio monitoring stations.

"Anything interesting yet?" She asked Private Carson.

"Not from Craig Raimond, number 21. Though Wilson got something." Carson replied.

"Wilson " Miss V snapped, "What have you got?"

A young man, with buzzed black hair pulled off his head phones and answered,

"We have our very first talk of an escape plan, coming from Amanda Balton, number 2."

"Oh, very interesting." Miss V said, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. "Looks like Lieutenant Jackson wins, what is it, 60 bucks on his bet for first escape plan. Congratulations."

The lieutenant was getting coffee and almost spilled the milk when he heard the good news. Just as Jackson was collecting his money from those who had bet, a phone rang. The phone wasn't supposed to ring, it wasn't expected to ring; it was the phone that was for contacting the main island of Hawaii.

The room became still. Miss V walked over to the wall mounted phone, her high heels making a piercing noise. Picking up the phone, Miss V raised an eyebrow even though the solider on the other end of the line couldn't see.

"Hello? Yes. What? You're...you're kidding? That's never been reported in any of the other situations. Well, I don't know. Demanding it eh? Well then, by all means accommodate her requests, I have an idea. Can it happen in 15 Minutes? 25 is too long. Make it happen in 20 at the most. Good. Get to it. What? Yes, I'm sure. Of course, don't worry, it will be fine."

"What was that about?" Lt. Jackson asked.

"Oh nothing. It seems we'll have something new for our little kiddies." Miss V smiled a grin that showed off all her shiny teeth.

* * *

The helicopter made it's way across the Pacific to a remote island that millions knew of, but not where it was. The bright sun reflected off the shiny helicopter plating and windshield, making the chopper appear from to the students who heard it coming in as a large, glowing, loud bird. Inside the piolet, seated comfortably next to his passenger, started humming a tune the other person on board didn't recognize. 

"Please stop." She asked the piolet through the helmet mounted microphone, she was one edge, nervous for how things were going to play out once she landed.

"Sorry?" The piolet asked, "Stop what?"

"Humming. You're humming. Please don't." She replied.

"Oh, sorry, didn't even realize I was doing it." The piolet shrugged. Deciding to attempt to make the last bit of the trip a little less tense he tried to ask his cargo some questions. "Fear of flying?"

"No." The passenger replied curtly.

"Oh... So you hear about how the people back in Canada are reacting to the news of what the class really won?" The piolet asked, trying to find a topic that wouldn't be shut down so fast.

"No." She replied.

"Oh," The piolet continued, "apparently most people are outraged that we started using the program. Saying it's all a big violation of human rights, talking about the Charter of Rights and Freedoms giving the right to live is being ignored. Though I heard there are some people already accepting it and some internet sites have been shut down 'cause of taking bets on the-"

"It is." The passenger interrupted.

"It is what?"

"Ignoring the right to live. It's our right's as Canadians to life, as human beings." She said.

"Except in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice. That there is right in the Charter Missy." The piolet smiled.

"Where the fuck is the justice?"

The piolet opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. Opened it again, then closed it, not knowing what to say.

As the chopper was brought down on the roof of the starting building, it's passenger pulled of her helmet, letting her long brown hair fall to her back. Leaving without thanking the piolet, she stepped onto the roof and saw a woman with red hair flanked by two soldiers. Walking over to the trio, her hair blowing in the wind, she was shown the direction of the door leading back inside. The chopper took back off and the four on the roof made their way down to the control room.

"Please take a seat." Miss V said to her guest once they reached the couch.

"Thank you." She replied.

"Let me start off - why are you here?" Miss V inquired.

"Because I'm not willing to take your suggested 'vacation' and I'll be damned if I'm going to enjoy myself while my students are out there killing each other." Miss Cooper, the teacher of the lucky class, said with anger rising in her.

"What do you suggest then?" Miss V asked.

"Stop this. Stop this whole program right now. Get out there and tell them they're going home." Miss Cooper demanded.

"That cannot happen." Miss V said, her smile remaining.

"Yes, yes it can and will. You're in charge of this thing, end it now." Miss Cooper said.

"I may have control here, but it's not me that brought this program to Canada; that was the government, the Prime Minister himself." She replied.

"There's no reason! There's no god damn reason for it! Not here, not in America, not anywhere! This is been brought here on the whim of a few high-up jackasses!" Miss Cooper said, starting to get fired up.

"Calm down." Miss V said.

Standing up, Miss Cooper walked over to the main G.P.S. locator map. Pointing at the large, electronic map, Miss Cooper continued,

"These are not red dots. These are children. Living, breathing children!"

"Well," Miss V said, still grinning, "Not all are living and breathing anymore."

Turning to look back at the map, more specifically the list of students on it, Miss Cooper saw four names faded from the harsh electronic white to a dull, somber grey. She stood, staring at the faded names in disbelief, anger and shame of not getting over to the island sooner.

"What's wrong? You didn't think that no one would be dead yet did you? Four students is actually quite a small number for how long the contestants-" Miss V was cut short as Miss Cooper turned and slapped the red haired woman.

"These. Are. Not. Contestants. They are people! How can you ignore that fact constantly!"  
Spitting blood onto the floor, then regaining her posture, Miss V snapped a glace at Private Hack. The burly private quickly and deftly pulled a syringe out from behind his back and injected Miss Cooper. Holding the teacher with one arm and the syringe in the other hand, Private Hack let Miss Cooper stop struggling and gently brought her down to the ground.

"And you could have just enjoyed the beaches." Miss V said, looking at Miss Cooper's slumped form.

"Will the announcement go out at 9 then?" Lieutenant Jackson asked.

"Yes, might as well hit her with another of the drugs in 45 minutes then, just to make sure she stays the way I want her to until she's needed." Miss V said.

"Yes, Mam." The Lieutenant said with a curt nod.

"Private, put her on the couch." Miss V said.

Hack immediately pick up the knocked out woman and carried her back over to the couch. Miss V went into the washroom and closed the door. Checking in the mirror for any damage in her mouth. Nothing, just a cut on her lip from her teeth. Fixing her hair a little, Miss V stood up straight and examined herself.

"You're a genius. If they can't find each other, you make them find each other."

* * *

Standing side by side and looking into the sky, Tim and Scott tried their best to see if the helicopter that had landed was coming back. It didn't seem to be. 

"Fuck." Scott said.

"Yeah. Wonder what it came over here for." Tim pondered.

"Hmm, probably something for Miss V. She probably gets what ever she wants if she just asks." Scott hypothesized.

"Yeah, most likely." Tim said with a chuckle.

"So back to the plan?"

"Guess so."

The two friends started walking again, heading towards the middle of the island.

"This sorta' sucks." Scott said.

"What sucks?" Tim asked.

"Look at my hair, it feels like all the spikes fell over." Scott said.

"Yeah, they did. Must have been the heat and, uh, whatnot." Tim said.

"That damn whatnot." Scott said, getting a laugh out of Tim.

"I'll tell you what really sucks though Scott; there's no scale or measurements on this damn map!" Tim said, holding up his map.

"So?" Scott said, not seeing the problem.

"So...we have no clue how much ground there is to cover." Tim said.

"Ah, I see. That does suck." Scott said. "Meh, we just keep going until we find anyone."

"There's probably a more effective way to find people though." Tim pointed out.

"We're bound to find someone. Just be patient." Scott said.

"Fine."

The pair continued a while in silence. Keeping an open eye for anyone. The air was humid and both of their shirts' were starting to stick to their bodies in the heat.

"This is freakin' disgusting." Tim commented on the state of their clothes.

Putting on an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression that was almost perfect, Scott replied,

"What the hell are you talking about? It shows off my manly man muscles." He finished off by flexing downwards as if in a bodybuilding competition. Tim couldn't help but laugh at his almost muscle-less friend trying to act tough.

"What? Something wrong? Or are you just jealous little girl?" Scott said, losing the accent.

"Oh that's it!" Tim said, throwing a punch at Scott's kidney.

Dodging quickly, Scott rolled in front of Tim and went to kick him in the stomach. His kick was grabbed by Tim, with his quick reflexes. In an attempt to maintain the attack, Scott tried to propel himself in a spiral movement to kick Tim in the chin; just how he'd seen it done in the kung-fu movies. Unfortunately for Scott, he wasn't so acrobatic and ended up collapsing half way through the spin. Tim burst out laughing.

"God dammit, I really thought I could get it that time." Scott said, getting up and rubbing his side, which had landed on a branch.

Mimicking a poorly dubbed kung-fu movie, Tim stuck a fighting pose, "You lack the skills of a master, grasshopper!" All joking manner disappeared from Scott's face as he straightened his back and stared at Tim.

"You. Are. No ninja!" Tim said.

"What the fuck are you on?" Scott asked, deadly serious.

"Opium." Tim replied, without missing a beat.

Both burst out laughing, making far more noise than they should have. In mid laugh, the best friends heard a rat-tat-tat-tat! Immediately hitting the ground and no longer in a joking mood, both friends scanned the dense trees around them. They saw leaves being blown away from on direction and tree bark and dirt exploding at another spot. Figuring out where the bullets were coming from, Scott motioned off in the direction of their unknown attacker. The bullets came in bursts over their heads.

"I see him!" Tim said to Scott, who lay a meter and a half away. The bullet-ridden leaves provided Tim with a clear view of their tall, dark attacker.

"Who is it?" Scott asked.

"Justin Lores. And he's got an AK-47!" Tim exclaimed, as he recognized the gun from some of the many video games he'd played back at home.

"Shit!" Scott replied.

"You two motherfuckers dead yet?" Justin called out.

Stopping and staring at each other for a second, the two friends didn't know what to do. Then, as if the time the spent together provided some sort of psychic link, they both nodded; understanding what to do.

"Not yet! Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!" Scott yelled as Tim pulled out his weapons and threw one of the grenades at Justin.

"Oh shit!" Justin yelled, running away. The explosion was larger than any of the three expected. The impact sent Justin flying forwards, but he was still alive and had nothing more than a few scratches and cuts. Realizing his disadvantage of explosives and numbers, he fled.  
Getting up slowly, Scott and Tim surveyed the area where the explosion had happened.

"I saw him run, let's go get him!" Scott said, wanting to complete their goal.

"No, we can't. He's faster than both of us, we'll never catch him." Tim said.

"Fine." Scott said, "But when we find him again. I'm gonna slit that bitches throat with one of these bad boys." Scott had pulled the two talon-like blades out of his pocket and inserted them as if they really were talons, ready to attack Justin if he had survived the grenade.

"Let's not go too far." Tim said.

"Yeah, people who are playing will come to the noise. Let's find a nice little hiding place." Scott with a smile.

_Students Remaining 42_


	8. Chapter 8 The Angel of Pain

Chapter VIII- The Angel of Pain

A loud buzzer was sounded. All the students were puzzled. It was only 9, the announcement shouldn't be on till noon. Only a few students also realized that there was a lack of classical music playing. The impromptu announcement had not been treated with the same amount of care as the normal ones it appeared. Once the buzzer stopped the familiar voice of Miss V. was projected out and across the island.

"Hello everyone!" Miss V chirped, "I hope you're all having a fun time out there. Well, you must be having fun, considering you sure aren't killing. Well, I'd like to inform you all that I was visited by a very special guest that you all know. We had a lovely chat and well, I came to the decision, why let you kids have all the good times in Hawaii? So, if you look at your maps you'll see where this is, your very own teacher, Miss Cooper, will be laying about, sunbathing in the section right above school zone. She has the exact same rules as you kiddies, so don't think grownups get an advantage!"

Around the island students were puzzled, Miss Cooper was on the island? She was in the game? Is this a trick?

"Now don't let Miss Cooper feel to alone out there, she wont be moving for a while, so come on over and give her a visit. Now some of you may have noticed I didn't give you any danger zones to stay away from last announcement, but it seems you don't really need the room." Miss V said, continuing to list off two zones, one in the very most northern part of the island, and the other just east of the school. "Enjoy your day everyone." Miss V said, then turning off the microphone.

* * *

"I doubt she's lying, why would she lie about Miss Cooper being here?" Allison Tolman said to her friends. 

"It could be a trick, to do what, I don't know, but nothing can be all that great out here." Amanda Balton said, trying to figure out the best course of action.

"Well, we can't just leave Miss Cooper out there if she really is out here with us." Natasha Gale said, a soft spoken person that was against any form of violence, a true pacifist.

"Agreed," Amanda said, "but we also don't want to risk our own safety."

"So we just leave her out there to be attacked by one of the maniacs who have already started killing?" Laura Owen asked. Laura had always been a sort of second in command with the group. A bit more ruthless than Amanda, she did what it took to get things done. Amanda, being more diplomatic, took lead of the group by an unspoken vote of wanting to follow a better 'people person'.

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Amanda said, defending herself.

"It sure sounds like it to me." Laura cut in.

Getting a bit flustered with the crass words, Amanda remained her calm self. "Then lets vote." She stopped and looked around for any disagreement to a vote on their action plan. "Alright, all in favour of going to see if Miss Cooper is here?" Laura's hand shot up, followed by Allison's. They both looked at Natasha, the undecided of the group. Natasha looked at the three girls, she didn't want to be the one responsible for deciding something important. Finally she came to her decision, Miss Cooper was more than a great teacher, she was a friend. Her hand rose.

"Ok, lets head back to the school then." Amanda said, nervous about what was set out before them.

* * *

Quiet, alone and terrified. Craig Raimond had never felt so fearful in his life, not that it was a bad reason. He held his weapon, an 'Angel' paintball gun, tightly. He doubted it couldn't kill, but he'd been paintballing once, and he'd walked away with some nasty bruises. He was supplied with about 1000 balls, so he figured he would have enough to drive someone away. That was his plan, if anyone came near, unload until they ran away or were down so he, himself could run. 

He'd been walking for quite a while, on his walk he'd heard some distant conversation in the middle of the night. Not wanting confrontation he kept moving, as quiet as possible. His awkwardness was a difficult obstacle to overcome in the dense jungle of growth. His long legs getting wrapped by vines, his large feet tripping over fallen branches, his high head having to be stooped down to avoid smacking it on many branches and running it through leaves. Craig still hadn't thought of how he was going to get out of this mess, death wasn't an experience he wanted to have at his age, but nor was being a murderer. Caught in this dilemma, Craig felt the best plan was not to think of a plan at all, let things play out and roll with the punches that were sure to come. An opportunity would present itself, one always seemed to.

Stumbling on a vine, he let out a small yelp as he caught himself before he fell flat on his face. As he got back up and brushed off the front of his shirt and pants, which now had green stains, he heard rushed, fear-filled whispering. Crouching low and scanning the dense greenery in front of him, Craig saw through the foliage two girls huddled close and looking intently in Craig's direction.

"Hello?" Craig called out as he recognized the two girls to be Natasha Gale and Allison Tolman.

"Who's there?" A disembodied voice demanded, there were unseen others Craig realized.

"Who the hell are you?" The voice demanded again, not getting an immediate answer.

"C-Craig. It's me Craig." He managed to spit out.

More whispering.

"Come out to the path." The voice said.

"No." Craig said, fearing what would happen in the open, where he'd be exposed when he wanted to be hidden.

"Come out now, Craig." The female voice said, very forcefully.

"No, leave me alone." Craig said, starting to get nervous. His palms started to sweat profusely, his grip on the paintball gun was slipping. He wiped his hands on his shirt.

"Come out, or we're coming in." She demanded again.

"No! Stay away!" Craig shouted.

"Fine, were coming to you." Laura said, Amanda had let her handle the situation, but wasn't to sure of this decision. Amanda grabbed Laura's shoulder. Shaking off Amanda's hand, Laura motioned for the others to follow as she made her way off the path and into the bush.

"NO! STAY AWAY!" Craig shouted in terror. He pulled the trigger, he had cocked the gun a while ago, after reading some instructions on the use of the gun before hand, and the fully auto gun tore through the leaves at high speed. Craig was wide eyed as he unloaded the hopper full of balls into the direction of the girls. He heard screams as he ran out of balls quickly and he turned back in the opposite direction and fled as fast as his long legs could carry himself.

Laying back at the edge of the bush were Laura, Natasha, Amanda and Allison, all writhing on the ground in pain. The speed the small that the balls had flown at them was so fast that none of them got down in time and now all of them were covered in blue paint, welts and bleeding bruises. Their chests, stomachs and arms had been the only things hit, except in Natasha's case, who, short to begin with, had approached in a crouch. She had taken a paintball to the cheek and another to the eye in addition to her torso hits. Natasha rolled on the ground crying, mainly out of the left eye, which hadn't been hit, Amanda and Laura had started to suck up the pain and where both crouched down, breathing deep with the harsh pain. Allison had darted to her feet and moving franticly, her method of trying to distract her body from the pain, she stumbled back and forth sobbing and taking jagged breaths.

Amanda crawled over to Natasha and held her shoulders to stop her from flailing. Closing her eyes to find calm from the pain, Amanda opened them again to examine the wound. It was a mess, the impact of the ball was directly into the eye and, as if the impact of the ball itself wasn't enough, the blue paint was leaking into the eye. The eye itself was bleeding and the once convex eye was pushed inward almost to the point of making it concave. Amanda turned away, it was too much. Too sickening to look at, she pulled her pack off her back and dug quickly for a bottle of water. She quickly opened the bottle, rested the agonized Natasha on her lap and poured the water into the eye. The water helped clean the paint and blood out, but the eye continued to bleed. Laura had gotten up and walked over to the two girls, observing the wound she felt nauseated.

"Dear God." She mumbled.

Amanda looked up at Laura, looked her in the eyes with a look of utter fear and a look of being lost in an unfamiliar city. _"What do we do?"_ She mouthed.

"Allison," Laura called, "Come help!"

The tall, terrified girl rushed over and knelt down beside Natasha.

"Use the water to wash out the eye." Amanda instructed as she shifted Natasha over to Allison and gave her the water bottle. Moving off to side with Laura, the two girls stared at each other, lips trembling.

"Can she see?" Laura asked.

"I don't know, I doubt it." Amanda sobbed.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" Laura asked.

"We can't leave her." Amanda said.

"Well, are we still going after Miss Cooper?" Laura tried to get back on track.

"I dunno. Let's see if Natasha can still get around." Amanda suggested. Good, they were back thinking clear. But damn, the shots hurt.

Walking back to Allison and Natasha, they realized something was wrong. Allison looked panicked, shaking Natasha's shoulders then glancing up at the two girls. Bending down Amanda noticed that Natasha's good eye was glazed over and she was staring into space.

"What happened?" Amanda asked, confused as to what could have gone wrong.

"She...she..she asked. Asked for a mirror." Allison said, trembling. "And, and when she saw her eye, she just s-s-stared into the mirror and didn't say anything." She sobbed.

"Jesus Christ." Laura said, she had an idea of what had happened. "I think she went into shock."

"Oh hell." Amanda said, realizing that she wouldn't be going anywhere. "We need Miss Cooper more than ever then. She'll know what to do."

Allison looked to Amanda then Laura, "But what about Natasha?"

The other two girls looked at each other and nodded.

"You stay here with her, keep low, out of sight and in the bushes." Laura said.

"Don't forget to clean out that eye." Amanda said.

"You're leaving?" Allison's eyes widened with fear. "You can't leave, I'll be alone!"

"Don't worry Allison," Amanda reassured her, "We're not that far from the school, and we can get Miss Cooper and come back."

"We'll be back in 15 minutes probably." Laura said.

Allison looked from one to the other, then down at Natasha. She shook her head.

"Alright. Be fast, don't leave me alone for long." She pleaded.

"Back before you know it." Amanda said with a smile.

The two girls helped move their fallen friend into the bushes from where they'd been attacked and set back off in the direction of the school, hoping they wouldn't regret their decision and that Natasha would be alright.

* * *

Dylan had seen the whole thing. The conversation, the shooting, the blood and screams. And now they were splitting up. He was faced with the choice, stay to watch the wounded, or follow her, the girl who had crushed his dreams, made him a school joke, embarrassed him in front of the entire school. Yes, it was a simple choice. Amanda would be made to pay, her time was coming. When she got hers, she would get it bad. He would make her suffer, suffer like he did. She wouldn't have to put up with the laughing, the pointing and the jokes, no...she would pay much more. He would have his pound of flesh by the time this game was done. 

_Students Remaining 42_


	9. Chapter 9 Alone Now

Chapter IX- Alone Now

"Shit, it's too God-damn hot." Zack Mannis (Boy #16) said to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. Zack had been alone since the start of the game, he wanted to meet up with Susan, but he knew that would only cause problems with her group. She was probably with all of them, in a big group of five, Zack wished he had a group. Alone he felt vulnerable, maybe if his supplied weapon wasn't a shaving kit he wouldn't have felt so afraid, so screwed. Zack doubted he could have done much with a gun anyways though, doubted he could take a life, doubted he would let himself submit to the game. At the current time, Zack lacked a plan, what the hell would he do? Escape? Suicide? Win? None of the answers to his problem were feasible.

Zack had been with Susan for a while now, how long was it? He couldn't remember exactly, since the middle of grade nine at least. He loved her, he loved going to the movies with her, taking her out, having a good time. He just wished her friends weren't so damn dumb. Janet wasn't stupid, he knew Janet wasn't; she just made bad decisions. He remembered last year's end of the year party, at Janet's house. It was one hell of a party, tons of people, some he knew, some he didn't (some Janet didn't even know.) It wasn't too long into the night and Susan was plastered. She was stumbling all over the house, tripping over nothing, calling out for Zack to come to her; then whenever he came, she'd smile and hug him, then wander off somewhere else. Zack was getting slightly fed up, but as her boyfriend, he figured it was best to stick with her, keep her out of trouble.

Once 1:30 AM rolled in, people had already started to leave, the only ones left in the house were Zack, Susan and Janet. Susan was staying at Janet's for the weekend, and Zack had stayed with her until she passed out. Zack offered to help Janet clean up the house. Zack was bringing in an armful of empty bottles into the kitchen when he saw Janet sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. He walked over and took the seat next to her.

"Hey Janet," Zack said, "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Janet said, turning to face Zack.

"You sure?" Zack questioned, thinking she didn't look all right.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Janet forced a smile.

"Ok," Zack said, getting up from the table to go check on Susan.

"I guess I'm just jealous." Janet said, now standing as well.

"Jealous? Of what?" Zack said, turning around, confused.

"You," Janet said, "You and Susan."

"Me and Susan?" Zack said.

"Yeah."

"I don't, I don't under-" Zack began.

"You guys are so happy together, when you two kiss, you kiss because you love each other; not because you want to see how far you can get at a party." Janet said, cutting Zack off.

"Oh..." Zack said, understanding what she meant.

"I feel alone. Every party it's some new guy from school. I don't think I've had a boyfriend who's lasted longer than two weeks." Janet said, stepping closer to Zack.

"You're doing fine though, we're just going into grade ten. You're talking like we're adults and we have to have our lives planned. Who we're gonna marry, where we're gonna live. We don't have to yet. You're doing fine." Zack assured Janet with a smile.

"But I want to be special." Janet said, "You know what Susan tells me?" Zack shook his head. "She says when you two are together, when you kiss, she feels like she's the only one who matters, like you and her are the only people in the universe."

Zack smiled, he wasn't used to getting open comments like that. "Well...heh...I try." He didn't really know what to say.

Janet took another step towards him, they were close. "I wanna feel special. I want you to make me feel special." She said, pulling Zack in as she kissed him.

"Janet!" Zack said as he pulled away, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Please! I- I just wanna kiss. Just one more kiss?" Janet pleaded.

Zack stood there, stunned. He can't! He couldn't! He...shouldn't. Janet pulled him closer again, kissing him again, but more than just a kiss. She started to get even closer, kissing more passionately.

Pulling away again, Zack wiping his lips. "Dammit, Janet! What the hell are you doing? We can't do this, Susan's my girlfriend, and your best friend!"

"I know! I know we shouldn't, but I need to!" Janet said, pulling him in again, kissing him with her arms around him. This time, Zack kissed back. They stood there for two solid minutes before Zack finally pulled back. He turned and rested his head on the wall, his backed turned to Janet.

"Shit." Zack said, "Never say anything about this to Susan. Ok?"

"Ok." Janet said. "She'd hate me too."

"What the hell did we do?" Zack asked. He got no reply.

Going into the living room, where Susan was laying on a couch. He moved her hair away from her face, tucked it behind her ear. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "I'm so sorry." Then got up and left. Leaving Janet and Susan alone.

Zack tried to forget that part of the night, he hated thinking about it. He also hated this damn jungle. Too hot, too thick, too creepy, even in the daylight. Night was worse, the twisting vines and the growth looked like it was after you just as much as the kid who sat beside you in History class. But that was at night, and during the day Zack had to worry about that kid from History, Steve Baker (Boy #2) who had just come flying out of the dense greenery and charged at Zack as fast as he could. Seeing the wrestling star running full speed towards him, hurdling over the logs to get to him, Zack panicked when he saw the shiny ring around Steve's huge knuckles. Adrenaline surged through Zack's blood as he ducked and rolled as Steve threw the punch. Epinephrine pulsing in Steve too, he turned to Zack, who was crouched low. Zack reached into his pocket and quickly retrieved the cheap razor from the shaving kit. He held the small, plastic handle tightly, his knuckles turning hot white.

"Stop, Steve!" Zack said before Steve had made another move towards him.

Steve's eyes opened wider, words, speech, it was registering, an instant calming.

"What?" Steve asked, his voice shaky.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Winning. I 'aint dieing out here man! I 'm not fucking dieing!" Steve said as he charged towards Zack again, swinging his fists as hard as he could. His left went wide, just to the side of Zack's head, while his right made harsh contact, low into Zack's rib cage, breaking his lowest rib. Gasping for air, and grabbing Steve's wrist, Zack pulled the plastic razor down onto Steve's forearm. He pushed down hard and dragged the blade sheathed in yellow plastic down from his inner elbow to his wrist. The sharp blade cut open the flesh, flaying his arm, turning it into a bloody, fleshy mess. Screaming in utter agony, Steve head butt Zack in rage. Still kneeling, Zack brought his arm holding the razor up and swung as hard as he could with his elbow into Steve's jaw. Letting loose an animal roar, Steve pulled his wrist free and wrapped his thick arms around Zack's neck as he swung around behind the smaller boy. Getting in an optimal position, one he'd learned in wrestling, he pulled up, lifting Zack to the point his finger tips just grazed the island floor. The blood from Steve's arm was rushing down Zack's neck and chest, Zack's face was turning purple and blue with lack of air. Zack's eyes started to roll up and his beatings on Steve's arms grew half-hearted as he succumbed to the end. Just as his lungs were ready to fail for the last time, Steven screamed out once more and fell off of Zack, a gaping hole in his side. Susan Shiel (Girl #15) stood, blood soaked katana in hand. Zack slumped down to the ground, semi-conscious. Shuffling over to Steve, Susan raised the katana above her head, and brought it down on Steve's back over and over in a very amateur fashion of sword play. His back now a mangled form of it's former muscled perfection, Steve lay still.

Susan turned to her fallen, beaten and oddly coloured boyfriend. He looked up at her, he looked into her eyes and tried to smile. The look of terror that Susan had been wearing since she showed up still hadn't left her face, even as she looked into the dark eyes of Zack, the one she called love.

"Whe...where's Janet? An...and Katy and..." Zack mumbled, blood slowly being pumped back to his head.

Janet started to cry, her grip tightened on the handle of the sword. "They weren't there. They left me. All of them! They all left!" She screamed.

"Susan...I'm, I'm here now...I...I love you." Zack said, trying to sit up to comfort his clearly shaken girlfriend. Zack slowly got to his feet, stumbling as he found his footing. As he brought himself up, Susan could see the horrible looking bruise around his neck. "I love you." He repeated.

Susan's tears continued to flow, Zack, why was Zack here too? "They left me, and now...now I can't be with them." She sobbed.

"We, we can find them." Zack assured. Still dizzy and in pain, he shuffled over to her and opened his arms to hug the distraught girl. "We'll figure this out. Don't worry, it'll all work out."

"No...No! There's, there's only one way to work..." Susan said through the tears.

Zack put down his arms and cocked his head in confusion, his headache stopping him from thinking to clearly. It happened fast. First there was the burn, a terrible burning. Then the feeling of pain spread through his body. Like a pane of glass shot through the center. The cracks spread outwards, down his legs, across his chest, through his arms and into his fingertips. His mind was blurry, but his body was on fire. The elegant blade was poking out the other side of his body as Susan held the blade with shaky hands.

Their eyes met again, terror filled Susan's eyes. She cried drops of fear. Zack's eye's were empty, so confused, so helpless, so alone. Not like this. Why? Why Susan? A grisly sound was heard to the couple as Susan rammed the blade till the hilt touched the entry wound. They stood close, an few inches separated their faces. Zack kissed with out leaning in, his lips touching the air as Susan pulled back. Susan closed her eyes overcome with the grief. If she had kept her eyes open, she would have seen Zack mouth one last "I love you" as he slid down from the blade as Susan retracted it.

She stood shocked. What had she done to him? What was happening to her?

"I'm sorry! It wasn't supposed to be you! You weren't supposed to be here! You weren't supposed to see me! Why...Why couldn't you have been killed somewhere else?" Susan fell to the ground beside Zack, her head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around him, for one last embrace.

* * *

Devon Jetter (Girl #8) peered around the corner, risking being seen. She peeked out with the SPAS 12 pump-action shotgun tucked tightly under her shoulder. Those who were friends with Devon would have laughed at the idea of her with a shotgun in hand, but those same friends didn't really understand something about Devon, they never really understood just how curious Devon was. Devon had been a curious child since she could walk, walking places she shouldn't, like walking into her parents room when she was seven, seeing one of the things so many children fear they may one day walk into; or shake with fear at the memory of doing such things. But other than that unsightly event, her curiosity hadn't gotten her into too much trouble. Not that she never got in a little trouble wandering around and poking things, she was crafty with explanations of why she was there and never got too harsh a punishment. Her parents weren't too strict and didn't mind her getting in trouble when she brought home report cards with a 91 average printed nicely on the bottom. 

But there was something Devon never told Natasha, or even Julia. She was curious about life and death, more so what it was like to give and take them. Not being a fan of pain, she wasn't too interested in giving birth at her age, but she wondered- what's it like to kill? What's it like to be in control of someone's life? To end their existence, to be the grim reaper? What would it be like to take that which is treasured more than a sports car or millions of dollars? She imagined it would feel good, it had to or else it wouldn't be against the law. She thought a lot of things against the law were good, not everything, but somethings. Like weed, she figured smoking a joint was the most enjoyable part of her everyday life. She wish she'd brought some weed on the trip, she had decided against it, on overnight trips it was common for teachers to check rooms randomly, she didn't wanna get screwed over. "But what about murderers" She thought. Not just first timers, but serial killers. They knew the feeling of taking another human being's life, and they did it again. People don't tend to do things they don't like to do again if they don't have to.

So Devon crouched and moved around the corner of the fishing shack. She assumed it had once been a place where a fisherman would bring in his catch to his family, but if so, he's long gone. So now Devon had to worry about what was making the noise inside. She needed to see them, the look them in the eye, then pull the trigger and blow them away. She used the muzzle of the shotgun to nudge the door open, she slid the gun in first, then followed. Her heart was pumping like it would explode any moment. It was dark inside, the bright sun only breaching the walls and ceiling where it could find cracks and holes, and through the open door. Devon quickly backed out of the room, cursing herself for being so dumb as to let herself go in, now they knew she was there...but the noises of someone rustling through things could still be heard through the thin wall. Retrieving her flashlight, Devon turned it on and moved back into the door way, the person clearly didn't have a gun or knife, or they would have been silently waiting for her. She shined the light into the small room, the room had a door, it led to the docking part of the shed where the boat would have been stored. She shone the light to the left, towards the pile of old fishing equipment and other things left in the shed, no room left in the small house just 30 meters away. Her right hand was starting to shake, she told herself it was the weight of the shotgun, but she knew it was her nerves. Nervously, Devon kicked over an old surfboard. She barely saw it, a quick flash before her eyes and it was gone. She jumped, more so then than any scary movie had ever make her jump.

"God dammit!" Devon said, "Just...Just a stupid cat?" She guessed the cat had been left there by the previous inhabitants, the cat must not have been around while they were evacuated. Devon was relieved. No one. It was no one. But yet, at the same time, that disappointed her. She wanted the time to be then. The time to kill, the time to feel. Feeling less worked up, Devon opened the door in the small room, which led to where she thought would be an empty docking area. She was wrong, there was a boat still tied up. A small boat with yellow paint peeling off in many areas. There was only enough room for two or three people on it. Devon smiled, she had a boat similar to this at her old cottage, before her parents decided it was to expensive to keep up any more and sold it. Checking the fuel level, she was satisfied with what there was, but decided to take the single spare can of fuel. Putting it in the back of the boat, she went to start the engine. On the engine was a note, Devon paused. A note? She picked up the piece of paper taped to the engine, it read "Congratulations on your find! Don't go too far from the shore now, don't forget... we can see where you're going!"

Devon smiled, crumpled up the note and tossed it into the water. Uniting the rope connecting the boat, she started the engine and head off into the water.

"This sure beats walking." Devon laughed under the engine's rumble.

* * *

Allison looked painfully at her friend. There was no way Allison could assume Natasha would ever be able to see out of that eye again. Hell, even if they were back home, where they could go to a hospital she doubted doctors, with all their Ph D's and their fancy words, could save Natasha's vision. Natasha still wasn't saying anything, but Allison wondered if she would say anything more, was something like this life-threatening? She washed out Natasha's eye with water again, she had to keep it as clean as possible. Laura and Amanda said she had to, it would help. Where were Laura and Amanda though? Out trying to get Miss. Cooper, yeah, leaving her all alone. She wanted them to come back. Come back and help her, she needed to be protected. She always relied on Amanda, ever since they knew each other; ever since grade 1. 

That was the first time they were in the same class, they sat next to each other and soon became friends. It started when Allison lost her favorite pencil, it had a heart pattern on it. Allison started to cry, she wanted it back. Amanda helped her look all day. They never did find it, but the time they spent inside during recess looking under the couch and the in the corners was time well spent. At their age, it seemed like an eternity they spent looking for the pencil, but that eternity was the first they planned on spending together, they became the best of friends. In grade 8 they had made a promise, Allison remembered it, it was only 2 years ago.

"So," Allison said, "High school next year..."

"Yeah." Amanda replied, "Scared?"

"A little."

"Don't be, we could still be in some of the same classes."

"I know, I know...It's just. I, I'm afraid if all the new kids, and the older kids will like me." Allison said.

"Don't worry, not everyone has to be your friend." Amanda reassured.

"I know."

"And never forget, I'm your best friend, and I will be forever." Amanda told her.

Allison smiled, and she gave Amanda a hug.

Amanda had kept good to her word, they still remained best friends, even with other kids joining up with them. Allison wanted Amanda back now. She needed her more than she needed Miss. Cooper. Brushing away some hair from Natasha's face, the little glint of light coming from Natasha's pocket caught the handle of the switchblade Natasha had been assigned. She decided it was safer if she held on to it. Never know who could show up. As she sat back up after retrieving the blade, she looked up. Leaning against a tree was that boy. The boy who was a jerk, the boy who made fun of her. The boy who held a butcher's cleaver, stained with blood. Chris Wallace grinned, Allison could only stare, her grip on the switchblade tightened. Amanda wasn't here, she couldn't rely on her for help now. This was her and Chris. She had to fight, and fight alone. She slid Natasha off her lap and gently onto the jungle floor. She stood, opened the knife and prayed, prayed for strength, prayed for life, and prayed she would get to see Amanda one last time.

_Students Remaining 40_


	10. Chapter 10 Two Minds, One Purpose

Chapter X- Two Minds, One Purpose

Allison stood, shaking in terror, she knew now what fear was. It was real, it was life, it was death, it was making her sweat. Her grip on the knife was growing slippery with sweat from her palms, she didn't want to die. Why did Chris have to show up? Why did he have to come after her? Didn't he come after her enough at school? He was always picking on her, teasing her, harassing her, and Allison just took the insults, the only problem being that she took his words to heart. Allison tried telling herself that it was just Chris being a jerk, so did Amanda, but she couldn't help but feel like she was only lying to herself and that Chris' words were filled of the truth. He called her things that wouldn't have even seemed overly mean, but they hurt Allison. He had called her plain once. Plain, not so hurtful, yet when Allison thought about it, it was true. She was so ordinary it was painful, nothing special, nothing unique, no talents, not hobbies. That hurt her deep, the fact that one of his most simplistic, and one of the least rude comments he made about her was so true. Allison was never too sure why he picked on her, why he made the effort to go out of his way to make her day, among other classmate's, days terrible. She always thought that bullies were cowards- but judging buy the blood stains on his cleaver he wasn't much of a coward after all. Allison had been with Amanda this whole time, now it was time to step up and deal with her daemon alone. He had just stood there, smiling, like this was going to be fun. She would stop his smiling. She would make him stop, do what ever it took, just make him stop.

Chris charged forward with the butcher knife raised, letting a terrifying battle cry out. Allison squeaked out in terror as she ran to her right, avoiding Chris and luring him away from Natasha. Running as the low lying bushes and branches cut and brushed against her exposed shin, Allison found herself taking the time to regret wearing shorts, even as Chris closed in on her. Catching up, Chris took a mighty swing with the thick blade, missing the intended target of Allison's back. Allison heard the quick cut of air behind her and she surged forward even faster, panicked. Chris continued behind her at an equally increasing pace, moving with a blood lust that Allison could feel in the air, shaking her to the core. He was playing this game, and he was enjoying it, that freak, that selfish jerk. He wasn't caring about the fact he was taking a life, he was playing for himself.

Chopping sideways at his fleeing prey, Chris' strike failed to make contact with Allison, rather smashing into one of the green covered trees that Allison had just ran past. The thick blade lodged itself into the wood with a thump. Looking over her shoulder, Allison saw Chris ripping the blade out from the trunk with both hands, screaming in frustration. Knowing it was do or die, Allison took her leap of faith and turned around and charged and the disadvantaged classmate. Stabbing out with the blade, Allison screamed. Chris saw the attack and quickly let go of the lodged cleaver and brought his hands back to avoid being hit. Allison continued stabbing, constant jabbing motions, Chris stumbling backwards to avoid each consecutive attack. As Allison pressed the attack, Chris tried again to move backwards, but the jungle floor had it's own trap set. Chris' foot caught on a root laid across the ground and fell to his dismay right onto his back, Allison now looming over him with a knife in hand. Allison saw panic in Chris' eyes, as much as Chris saw the same in hers. Kicking out, Chris caught Allison in the stomach. Gasping and stumbling back, Allison took a wide swipe with the switchblade, more to keep Chris, who had gotten to his feet, at bay rather than to hit him. After Allison swiped Chris charged her, tackling her off her feat, hard onto the ground. Sitting up on Allison's midsection, Chris held her arm with the knife down, while he wound up and punched her in the jaw. Allison cried out in terror and pain, tears streaming out fast. Chris punched again, and again, he thought he might break her jaw. He got off her, standing over the crumpled girl, he took the knife out of her hand and spat on the ground, getting the dirt out. Chris gave a swift kick to Allison's stomach, crying out again, she rolled over in agony, her back now facing Chris.

"Don't you turn away!" Chris yelled out.

He reached down to pull her back face up, grabbing her by the shoulder. As he turned her, Allison screamed and swung up with all the force she could muster, a rock she landed beside in hand. The rock connected with the side of Chris' head, knocking him right off Allison. Sitting upright, shaking, Allison looked at Chris, the once vicious bully now laying with a gash in the side of his head, laying still. Cupping her hands over her mouth, Allison tried to slow her ragged breathing. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. She sat there, repeating the controlled breathing until she stop shaking.

Allison stared at Chris, wondering if he was dead. She bit her lip, trying to decide if she should check. Allison crawled over to Chris, she hesitated, what if this plays out like a movie? She goes to check is pulse and he grabs her wrist. No, that's a movie. Allison extended her fingers forward, then gently put them on his neck. She quickly pulled them back, no movement. She reached out again, this time taking the time to check the blood flow, there was a pulse. Pulling her long hair behind her head, she brought her ear in close to listen for any breathing. He was still breathing too, it was shallow breaths but that meant there was air still flowing. So unconscious, alive, but unconscious. She retrieved the knife from Chris' hand, and walked back over to Natasha. Her jaw was killing her, nothing had broken, but it was bruised and already swelling into a nasty looking sore. Deciding she didn't want to be near when Chris woke back up, she made a move to pick Natasha up. _But then how will we meet back up?_

Allison was torn now between the decision to defend her own personal safety, or make sure that their group would meet back up. This wasn't fair for her, another major choice? She didn't want this responsibility. She ran the possibilities of the two choices through her mind, thinking of the pros and cons, the dangers, the risks, neither seemed to great; but no option in this situation was good. The indecision was killing her, make a choice, because no one will make it for you. There was no way she could continue her time on the island making the decisions like this, she had to meet back up with Amanda.

Walking back over to Chris, she dragged him over to a tree, brought out the knife and got to work.

* * *

Ugly girl, ugly, ugly, ugly. That's all she ever heard. That was the reason she hated her class, and herself more so, the reason she felt like a broken, abandoned piece of trash. Bethan was sick and tired of it. Sick and tired of being the outcast, the but of the jokes, the last pick, the one nobody gave a shit about. There was only one, Miranda, who ever gave her the time of day. But Bethan knew it was only because she was also looked down on, judged by appearance, that she was force to be with Bethan. Bethan knew that Miranda would have rather be with the other girls, and knew that Bethan knew it. It was the lack of real friendship that always kept them from sharing anything, from actually doing anything together apart from eating lunch together.

She sat on the edge of the cliff, contemplating just giving up. For once in her life she felt her reason for ending it, reasons for just saying goodbye were justified. The last two years she'd felt like killing herself, contemplated the ways, the note, but she always told herself to just overlook the current situation and push on, to the great unknown of the future. The only problem for her was that she knew her future. She knew the teasing, the name calling, the seclusion would all take place tomorrow, and the day after. Her parents had supported her when ever she did anything, and she loved to paint. Bethan was talented, her paintings were magnificent, her marks in art were exceptional and she felt free to express herself when she painted. Her sorrow, her pain, and her soul went into her pieces of art. Her parents loved her, their love had kept her from exiting the world. But now, in this situation, this new hell, maybe suicide was the right thing to do. She felt like painting. She felt more than ever that she could paint her feelings on the canvas. This new situation where appearance meant nothing, just how well you could stay alive, would maybe benefit her. She'd faced her daemons and she'd won. Her painting would be different from the rest. For once she felt like she was on top, that she held the advantage of being near death.

She could kill the rest of the class and go home, that would be wrong though. They'd teased her, but did that justify their deaths? Was it the right thing? Since when did the right thing really even apply to her. No one did the right thing to her. No one in this class took the time to be nice to her, why should she be the exclusive owner of the right thing? Maybe revenge was the right thing. Gandhi may have said an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but justice is blind. Bethan would serve her justice and take an eye for the eye her classmates had taken from her. Rising from the cliff edge, Bethan took out her assigned weapon, no longer uncaring for it, as she had been at first glance. This chainsaw, a small branch cutter, but a devastating weapon none the less would be her new brush to paint destruction on the canvas of her tormentors.

* * *

Moving through the forest as fast as possible, Amanda and Laura were making good time. Sweating profusely, from the exertion and the humidity of the island. Amanda wasn't quite as in shape as Laura and through rigged breaths asked to bring the pace down to a walk for a few minutes.

"As long as we don't stop." Laura responded.

"Right," Amanda panted, "We'll keep moving."

The two walked along, still not talking to each other, even with the ample opportunity provided by the slower pace. Amanda glanced over to Laura, then to the ground.

"Laura?" Amanda asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Laura said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

"Thanks," Amanda said, "Thanks for taking charge back there, I panicked."

Laura started to laugh, "You don't have to be the leader here, we're all in this together."

"Yeah, I know," Amanda began, "it's just, you kept your cool so much better than I did. I balled by eyes out."

"You just saw Natasha have her eye popped." Laura said, Amanda cringed, "It's not exactly a terrible thing to do."

"I guess you're right."

"I am, don't sweat it." Laura joked, "Especially not like we are in this damn heat."

"True, well, judging by the map, I doubt we've got much left to go." Amanda said eagerly.

"I think you're right. Let's speed it up again?" Laura asked.

"Sure." Amanda said, ready for another run towards their goal.

The two continued on, running in the heat, sweating and staying focused. The faster they found Miss Cooper, the faster they got back to Natasha and Allison. The heat was ridiculous, after the whole global warming problem, they'd had some hot summers back home, but this was something else, the humidity was getting to them, tiring them even quicker.

The finally saw the building where they'd come out of last night. It was a dull grey colour and it stuck out in the lush wilderness of green. Miss Cooper lay in front of the building, far enough out to be clear of the dangerzone that kept the starting building safe for rebels. The two girls could see she was breathing. Sneaking cautiously through the bush to get closer, the girls looked at each other; Laura motioned with her fingers for the both of them to scan the area to see if they could catch a glimpse of anyone waiting in ambush. They crouched and peered around for a solid two minutes. Amanda checked her GPS locater as well, it showed three blips in their area, herself and Laura, and their teacher just ahead. Shrugging, Amanda whispered to her companion.

"Just because we didn't see anyone on the GPS, we shouldn't assume there's no one out there, we don't know how well this works." Laura nodded in agreement. "Let's move quick and drag her body and her pack back here as fast as possible."

"3." Laura started.

"2." Amanda continued.

"1!" They both whispered loudly as they broke out into a run for their downed teacher.

Putting their hands underneath the arms of Miss Cooper, the pair started to drag her, Laura grabbing the pack with her free hand. Just as they started to drag her, Amanda noticed something flashing in her hand. The GPS was indicating a new blip moving in from the opposite direction they had headed, suddenly another one came in from their starting side. Dylan had assumed Amanda wouldn't have been looking at the GPS, as she'd neglected it for so much of her time on the island, and he'd moved in much closer.

"There's someone coming for us and someone waiting for us!" Amanda shouted as they dragged their unconscious teacher.

"Turn then!" Laura exclaimed, shifting their movement to the side, going in between the mystery others. Attracted by the shouts, the new student picked up their pace, the blip traveling fast across the screen. As the girls were about to close the distance of barren land into the bush, a shot rang out from the newcomer. The bullet lodged itself into the ground beside the teacher's legs. Letting out a shriek, Amanda dropped Miss Cooper's arm and ran the final stretch into cover. Laura continued her drag, terrified. With a steadied aim, the unknown shooter fired again, aiming straight at Laura.


	11. Chapter 11 Safety Off

_Author's Notes: It's been a while since I've updated this, and I really don't want it to die. Busy would be and understatement and being a new writer, how to keep this going has escaped me. I'm probably going to cut down on chapter size, hopefully making it easier for me to find an stopping place for one and not feel so overwhelmed by this._

_I hope someone or some people still care about this story, or maybe with this bump back to the top of the list, someone is starting the story new. Either way, enjoy it. _

Chapter XI- Safety Off

An experienced shooter would have made the kill clean, a shoot into central body mass that incapacitated the target; Sam Stokes (Girl #16) had no experience at all. The shot was low and it entered the hipbone, crushing part of it. Laura dropped Miss Cooper as she sprawled to the ground. Knocked at an odd angle from the hip shot, Laura lay twisted, crying as blood leaked from her side.

"Amanda! Help me!" She screamed in agony. "Please help me!" Tears streamed down her red face, she clawed at the air for aid, letting her forehead fall to the ground.

Amanda was in the bushes, staring in horror of one of her best friends laying in a gathering pool of blood. These seconds seemed like days to her. She watched her best friend's hand clench a cluster of fallen leaves with a shaking hand as she brought her head up from the ground. Her eyes told a story of pain and terror, but Amanda couldn't go back out there, she'd be shot.

The small Sam approached her downed classmate. She knew both Amanda and Laura well enough, from classes together and from sitting not far from Amanda in band. But here on the island, she cared little for the lives of others. She needed to see home again, she needed to be with her mother and father. She needed to read a book in bead until she feel asleep, she needed to be kissed on the brow by her father, no matter how many times she told him she was too old for something like that. Raising the large pistol once more, she squinted her eyes, not wanting to see the outcome, but wanting the results so desperately. Amanda started to cry as well, unable to move due to the overwhelming situation at hand. Laura couldn't understand why her friend just sat there. She bit her lip then cried out,

"Save me! Plea-" A bullet cut her short. The 45 caliber round tore into her back, dropping her for good. Sam stood behind her, looking almost as terrified of her actions as Amanda. She knew that she needed to finish what she started, this was playing to win.

Pointing the gun now at Amanda, she would be one step closer to going home. Had Amanda been more observant of the GPS, she would have noticed a blip moving in at full speed towards the trio of girls still alive. As Amanda crouched, paralyzed, Sam pulled the trigger as Dylan bolted into her bellowing in anger.

"Shes mine!" He screamed as he wrestled with the downed girl.

He'd managed to pin her with his body, their hands and arms entangled and fought as they tried to gain control of the pistol. Something about seeing the crazed boy jolted Amanda, he'd saved her life- though not for the reasons Amanda thought he had. Knowing that staying to thank him would only be a risk, she scrambled forwards to Miss Cooper and, with a new purpose and intensity, dragged her alone from the clearing into the undergrowth. If she had noticed she had left the GPS on the ground beside her, she may have stopped to stoop it up, but she failed to realize in the heat of the situation and pressed on, trying to pull her former educator through the tangle of low-lying plants.

Back at the clearing, the struggle for control of the pistol was stuck in a deadlock, neither party able to wrest utter control and take charge of the situation. Dylan had the strength and leverage, Sam fought like a cornered animal, desperately for her life. Thinking away from the pistol, Sam kicked out, kneeing Dylan in the groin. Letting out a strained growl of pain, Dylan brought a new weapon to bear, his teeth. He bit down on Sam's fingers. Screaming out, Sam managed to hold onto the gun. Spitting up into Dylan's eyes, she managed to make him take a hand off the gun to wipe his eyes clear of the disgusting attack. She twisted to break free of his other hand, but Dylan slid his remaining hand down to her wrist and held. The sharp stop of momentum sent the pistol from her hand and onto the ground. The pair stopped their struggle as they both eyed the firearm. Dylan dove for it, but Sam pushed him farther than he needed to go. Scrambling on all fours, she went to grab the gun from under him.

Seeing his obvious disadvantage, Dylan rushed to his feet, kicked out at the gun, which went through Sam's legs and landed behind her, and ran towards the direction of his pack that he'd left safe. Turning around to grab her gun, Sam gripped it tightly and fired two shots at the retreating intervener, both going wide at the rapidly moving target. Another fleeing target, Sam had messed up again. She clung to her gun and sat beside her only victim, she would take a quick rest. Emotionally and Physically she was drained, more so than from the normal stress involved with being in the situation at hand. She would have to get her kills in a much more efficient way, she thought.

* * *

Michael thumbed the safety off again. He'd been playing with the gun almost since he pulled it out. Safety on, safety off. How the hell was he supposed to fire this thing? He'd decided against wandering around the island, a bit too risky he thought. Ha, too risky? Like somewhere on an island full of kids trying to kill each other wasn't a risk. Still, he figured the little rock cave he'd found on the coast to be safe enough. After seeing Caitlin's corpse, he definitely didn't want to be out there with some of the others. The cave was simple enough, one way in, and hidden from view from anyone walking above the shore on the main pathways. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd do this. He could just sit there, starring outside and waiting for someone to show up, shoot them or let them join. But what if no one came? What if the time ran out? Sitting in one place wouldn't fix the situation, but killing wasn't too appealing to a good natured guy like Michael. He'd toyed with the idea of suicide. He had a pistol, a quick, easy way out. No one would have to kill him, he wouldn't kill anyone else. Perhaps ending his own life on that note would spare him from making any stupid decisions later. Safety on.

He liked his cave the more he sat there. The waves looked beautiful, it would have been a great place to spend some vacation time. Taking his black rimmed glasses off and resting his head against the cave wall, he closed his eyes and just listened to the water. It was almost hard to imagine that somewhere beyond the noise of the sea where the noises of classmates screaming, shooting and dying. The thought alone choked Michael up, he felt like crying until he had no more tears left in his eyes. Drain it all out. There was no way he could take part in anything like that. He'd never liked any sort of conflict. Competitive attitude was something he lacked and he was glad. Some of the sport jerks were a bit too much for Michael, he often wondered when they stopped being like that and grew up. Then he wondered if they did. His dad was still a bit like that, a little less upfront about it, a little more restrained- but still a jock at heart. Michael never let it really get to him, but his dad's disappointment with his son's lack of interest in any sort of physical activity was a blow to his self-esteem. When he'd hit high school, his dad had hoped he might try out for the football team, the rugby team, the lacrosse team, anything. But nothing. Michael was happy just joining the production class and filming for the school's TV. No one really watched the few TVs in the main halls, but he got some enjoyment out of the filming. He'd thought about pursuing that after high school. Film school would be interesting. Maybe he could direct some of the short plays or films he'd written in his spare time. His dad wasn't too big on the idea, not the most stable career and it could be an awful waste of money. Michael's mother was a little more supportive, she smiled when he told her and told him anything would make her happy.

Michael never thought he'd miss the pressure from his parents about what to do. He'd always thought that would be the biggest issue to deal with. This new situation was just too big for him to even try to wrap his mind around it. _They want us to kill each other. _He thought to himself. He repeated it in his head again, then again.

"They want us to kill each other." He said aloud. His voiced vibrated loudly in the small cave. Out loud it was more ridiculous than in his head. He started to laugh at the extremity of the situation. Safety off. Other's had killed, he'd seen Caitlin with his own eyes. He'd puked and he'd felt like throwing something. How could anyone do what he saw?

He placed the barrel in his mouth. The taste was a metallic type, not pleasant at all. He looked up at where the sky would be had he not been enclosed. Safety on. He started to cry. What could he do other than this? What would possibly work out for the better? Safety off. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he decided for good. He put the gun down beside him, safety on.


End file.
